M A N I F E S T

Elijah "Eli" Windsor | Mayor In-Training | Princeton Alumni | Closed RP

[goldxnmanifest]

indyerstraits​:

–

“How? Selling drugs? Gang violence? Prostitution?”

Jamie rolled his eyes, or tried to. What he lacked in coordination, he made up for in brain power and sarcasm. There wasn’t enough liquor in the world to rinse him of a smart mouth. There was, however, enough to rinse him of inhabitations as he prowled around the garage like a cat sniffing out a new apartment. 

The walls of the garage stretched for longer than he’s ever known it to. It was like being transported to a weird alternate dimension where one didn’t have to struggle to maintain interior heating. It was nice, but cold and devoid of signs of life. He understood then where Elijah got it all from.

“You wound me by reveling in all of this extravagant wealth when the rest of the town is struggling to get by. I’m sure even you can see the social disparity. In a town this small? The contrast is stark.”

Jamie held his hand up to block the brightness of the lights from his eyes as he gravitated towards the glistening bottles of liquor, only stopped by the blunt edge of a countertop jutting into his hip.

“Ow,” he said, recoiling with a delayed wince and looked down at his hip as if he could already see the bruise blooming there. 

“I’m not going to pass out,” he interjected, sounding petulant about it. “Why do you care anyway? You said it yourself, murder’s an easy thing to get away with in this town.”

Gang violence? Did Jamie really think he got his hands dirty? Also, last time he checked, Gravewood didn’t have a gang problem. Either way, Elijah shook his head in exasperation. Whatever amount of God-given brownie points he was earning was quickly being overshadowed by the growing headache behind his eyes.

“Your blurring the line between personal wealth and public wealth again,” he warned, though it held an air of holier than thou as he said it. “Why should the rich take their wealth to pad the poor? The rich earned it in the same ways the poor could.” Elijah knew how un-politically correct he sounded and he saw the issue with that way of thinking, but he knew he would rile up Jamie so he couldn’t help himself.

When Jamie naturally gravitated toward the liquor, Elijah slid between the countertop and the smaller man and gently pushed him backward. “Not only is that shelf worth more than you life, you’d have to fight off Father Christmas himself for it.” 

He’d gotten close to Jamie again. And again, the smell of alcohol had overwhelmed him. 

“This has gotten worse,” he motioned broadly to Jamie’s form. “And you run around with that Alec kid, don’t you? With his DUI, I wouldn’t be surprised if the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” He shook his head in disappointment - not for Jamie’s sake. But, because so many people let this happen to their lives.

“I mean, after what happened with the rest of your family, do you really want to go out like them?” If they were close or even friends, it would’ve sounded like genuine concern. But, because they were how they were, it sounded more like another condescending poke.

[goldxnmanifest]

indyerstraits​:

–

Jamie’s expression recoiled in disgust when Elijah didn’t take his bait, his scowl worsening when the next words came out of his mouth. There was no amount of liquor that could’ve prepared him for Elijah’s… what. Condescension? Mercy? Pity? He scoffed.

“Now you have an objection to dousing me with water? And here I thought you liked me wet.”

He could feel the pitter-patter of rain on his forehead, the wet droplets trickling down his cheeks now as if in reminder of junior year. Why was it that Elijah always came with a downpour? Jamie didn’t have the wherewithal to ponder that at the moment, but he would come morning if he remembered. 

Jamie watched as Elijah beckoned him like a stray, rounding around the house as if he’d be inclined to listen to anything he had to say. 

“You know, I’m seen Old Yeller. I know how this ends,” he called out as Elijah disappeared and left him alone in the dark. He waited a beat as the rain fell down harder on him, drenching him through his jacket and making his skin crawl. After another second of deliberation, Jamie followed after Elijah, each step clumsy but guarded like it took all his effort to keep his movements steady. 

The mayor’s manor was as grand as he expected it to be, lavish and undeservingly luxurious after knowing what the rest of Gravewood looked like. Jamie clipped the headlights of a car on his way in, cursing aloud only to bump into another one. He then missed the bottle thrown his way, his athleticism absent whether he was drunk or not. He also watched it smash into the wheels of one of the car with complete apathy. Served it right.

“The taxes are going to the Sheriff, sure,” he said as he bent to pick up the bottle, uncapping it and taking a drink only to look at it, betrayed. “Is this fucking water? The least you do is roofie me.”

Old Yeller. If only it was that easy to put himself and the rest of the town out of their misery.

Elijah rolled his eyes as he sorted through the fridge. The kid sure did know how to make a victim out of himself - maybe he’d have a future in politics if he put his efforts into writing memos instead of tagging government property with shitty paint.

As Jamie stumbled through the room, Elijah leaned carelessly back against the countertops lining the walls. It was perfectly gray in the room, with bright white uplighting to accent the walls around them. Behind him were two rows of liquor bottles nearly as long as the garage wall itself. Unlike most people’s garages, this garage was built to be a hangout space. A space for them to discuss cars and drink top shelf bourbon. Any amount of “dirty” work was done elsewhere. It was how Henry Windsor preferred it and it was how Elijah had learned to prefer it.

With how much racket Jamie was making and how many times the nearest Lincoln had been bumped into it, it was miracle the anti-theft alarm wasn’t blaring out into the night. He crossed his arms over his chest as Jamie continued groaning about the sheriff and taxes.

“Has it ever occurred to you that money can be made other ways? That generational wealth compounds as it grows? Why do you always assume we’re embezzling to get our money? You wound me by thinking me so little.”

Roofie? “An incapacitated idiot on my floor is exactly what I’m trying to avoid. Why the fuck would I roofie you in my own garage?” He uncapped his own water and drank from it to avoid looking at the other. His goal was to get him sobered up enough and send him along his way. Or, the very last option on his list, was to build him a cot somewhere and let him sleep it off. But Jamie was like a raccoon - he would shred his way through the walls and ruin whatever he could find. Elijah couldn’t let him out of his sight.

[goldxnmanifest]

indyerstraits​:

–

No smart remark came to mind when Elijah made a comment about the weather and serial killers. Certainly if he had more of his bearings, he’d know to interject that he was wrong when Canada had its fair share of cold hearted killers. 

Instead, he was caught the way Elijah was looking at him. He didn’t know how long he was staring before he realized that the heat between them had simmered down into a quiet stalemate. Elijah’s eyes were piercing and dark like little bullets, puncturing him in a way he wasn’t sure he liked. Jamie had always wanted to be seen. But not this way.

He stumbled back with a little more clarity– or at least an attempt to hold onto some. Suddenly, his body felt too heavy.

Jamie sniffed and swiped a hand over his face, hoping for a moment’s reprieve from Elijah’s gaze. “What’s it to you?” he snapped, making up for the lack of vitriol in the other’s voice with his own. 

It wouldn’t have been the first time someone asked, Alec’s voice too loud in his head all of a sudden. Naturally, Jamie grew defensive. He was convinced that he would’ve graffiti’d the mayor’s office whether he was stone cold sober or not. It was just a matter of when.

Bile filled his mouth as the pauses between their statements drew out long and heavy with implications of acknowledgement. Jamie took another shaky step backwards to put more space between them, gulping down air like he couldn’t get enough of it. 

“Well?” he taunted, holding his hands out before letting them drop to his sides. “Are you going to call the Sheriff on me or not?”

Elijah narrowed his eyes as Jamie took a step back from him. He wasn’t sure what drew him to focus so much on the other’s wellbeing. Perhaps it was an amount of acknowledgment that Elijah knew what that was like, though he’d never admit it. To cover up pain with whatever he could get his hands on. To push down thoughts he wasn’t prepared for.

At first, Elijah didn’t answer Jamie’s question. His jaw flexed as tension roiled through him. What the hell was happening? He came out here to stop a break-in and now he’s concerned about the graffiti artist extraordinaire's wellbeing. Is that was sobriety was? Empathy? It tasted bitter on his tongue. Above them, the clouds rolled by lazily to block out the moon. The soft orange glow of the home’s up-lighting kept them lit, but small, wet droplets started to patter the ground around them. He took a deep breath in - still unsure of his motives but coming to a conclusion anyway.

“No. I’m not.” He dropped his gaze for a moment, just a brief flash, before lifting up a hand to beckon him over. “Come on, man. You look awful and the rain’s only going to make it worse.” 

This time the vitriol was small, and it was there to cover up any amount of empathy that Elijah might be feeling. It was foreign and he didn’t like it. But, if Jamie accepted without too much lip, Elijah would take him around the backside of the east wing of the house and duck through the garage’s exterior door. Once inside, he’d flick on the light overhead and illuminate the pristine garage within. It was devoid of any semblance of a lived-in home like boxes or crates and instead had three luxury vehicles parked in a row, without an oil smudge in sight. Elijah ignored them and headed for a fridge near the door they came in. He grabbed two bottles of water and tossed one at Jamie. 

[goldxnmanifest]

mckennaapplepie​:

–

Mckenna brightened at the invitation, all too ready to accept and abandon his responsibilities because it’d been just too long. He’d never been much of a rebel, keen on following orders through to the last letter, but he’d been reconsidering his stance on obedience lately. Like maybe life would be more interesting if he just strayed once in a while. 

His feet were moving before he could protest, his body seeming to be far more decisive than his head was. 

“Um…” he started as his brain began to catch up. Images of Isadora’s big glassy eyes and pouty disappointment filled his brain like a flood, drenching him in guilt not even two step out the door. 

She had distinctly told him that the proposal was an important one that needed to be approved by the mayor before she could hold council and make a plea to the people for a multiplex that would expand local housing for more people to move in. It had made sense to him when she’d said it, only now it felt… small. Like it could wait another day or so. A few hours, even. 

Mckenna cast a longing look over his shoulder at the doors to the mayor’s office as they swung closed behind him before turning back to Elijah with a small grin.

“Yeah, totally,” he agreed and followed him like a dog being lead on a leash. “You’ve got to tell me about college.”

Elijah watched the contemplation pass over Mckenna’s features. He was so incredibly easy to read. While Elijah couldn’t be sure of what his purpose was for being at the Mayor’s Office that day, he would soon learn. But, that could all come in time. He was due for an afternoon off. Honestly, spending time would Mckenna would be a breath of fresh air - to be with someone who had no ulterior motives. No hidden strings to pull. 

Elijah grinned and threw his arm around the other’s shoulders. “Good choice. There’s a deli around the corner with an incredible Reuben.” As they walked toward the deli, he dropped his arm and walked with his hands in his pockets. The small smile on his lips was still there, even as he turned to look over at Mckenna.

“While the Lodge’s opening weekend was a blowout, no sweat on missing it. That’s just one extra reason to waste a Saturday and take you up there. Have you been skiing before?” As fall turned to winter, the blanket of snow on the mountainside was growing by the day. Pretty soon, the routes would be perfectly packed for a winter of pastime. Not to mention, Elijah was pretty damn good at skiing - something he hoped that Mckenna had never done. Though, the kid was a natural and would pick it up soon. But it was yet another competition to be had.

To Elijah, it was natural and normal to compete so heartily against your friends. It was the best kind of friendship. He was sure Mckenna viewed it similarly.

[goldxnmanifest]

indyerstraits​:

–

Jamie careened into Elijah’s palm, both drunk and brazen with his advances. He was not much of a brute, his weight easily propped up by a locked elbow, but he wasn’t trying to get into his face. Depth perception was out the window. Or maybe it was just his eyesight flickering in and out with every slow blink of his eyes.

His judgment was impaired, but his humor was not. He barked a dry laugh at Elijah’s threat.

“I fucking wish he would,” he told him with his whole chest. There was a level of vulnerability that came with his level of intoxication. It was one that rarely made it past the walls of his guard, despite how brutally honest he was at all times. In a way, his disparaging commentary about society and the mundane mortal coil made for good camouflage whenever he let it slip that death was welcome as long as it meant he didn’t have to continue paying taxes to live.

 The poignancy of his response was lost in the sincerity of it and it took Jamie a minute to realize in the strange silence between them. He furrowed his brow and slapped Elijah’s hand from his chest for lack of something better to do.

It was a mistake on his part as his weight shifted forward. He caught himself before he bunted into Elijah like a particularly petulant basketball, head swaying dangerously close to butting the other’s.

“You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was you,” he spat. “If you can’t make Gravewood great again, why not make it the worst? ‘Serial Killer state of America’ sure has a ring to it, doesn’t it?”

It was all so trivial. His silly remarks about Jamie’s fragile and, quite frankly, embarrassing state. Their relationship was completely built on high school prejudices. If he was honest, Elijah was too grown with too much happening around him to even give Jamie the time of day. He should’ve called the Sheriff and had it handled. But no, he wanted to play the hero and come marching out to protect the home. Fat lot of good it did. 

Just as he moved his gaze back to the side of the house, he heard Jamie’s response. He blinked. It was strange how it sounded. It was not unlike Jamie to be self-deprecating - years of being vaguely involved with one another had shown that enough. But, something about this admission was different. Before he could think about it too long, his hand was batted away and his space was invaded even more than it already had been.

Reflexively, Elijah caught him by the shoulders and steadied him upright. “Jesus Christ, dude,” he grunted as he tried to keep him on his feet, despite the drunken pitter patter of his steps. He answered offhandedly, “West Virgina’s too cold for serial killers.”

Up close now, Elijah found himself finally taking stock of the other guy. The clammy skin, the eyes that didn’t seem to fully focus, and that comment. An unfamiliar knot formed in his chest. 

“Jamie, how much have you had to drink tonight?” He asked, his voice suddenly even.

[goldxnmanifest]

date: sometime around Christmas.

who: @isadoramorgan

where: A luxe fundraising event put on by the Windsors to support the renovation of the Gravewood High School football stadium.

Christmas time was one of the best times to host fundraisers for many a reason. Wealthy patrons are looking for last minute donations to pad their books and wash tax payments, the Windsors look to spend their remaining “profit” so they can get out of taxes altogether, and people come together to celebrate the holidays in luxe style. It was a PR miracle. 

Naturally, it only made sense to host the soiree at L’abattoir at Black Bear Lodge. The glass walls looked down the snowy slopes, the light of a dozen adorned Christmas trees filled the room with a warm glow. Even the crackling of fireplaces and soft violin music carried through the air, despite the chatter of wealthy patrons. It was a black tie affair and despite it being a fundraiser, it was invite only. Everyone was out in their opulence, their finest jewels on display. It was as much a celebration of wealth and a celebration of the year that was as it was an effort to “raise money”. As if they needed to. But, again, it was good PR.

Elijah stood amongst his peers - various staffers of the local government, senators, and even the Governor of West Virginia stood by his side. They shared stories of their triumphs from the year - battles lost and won, though more battles seemed to be won than lost. It was a good year. Even Elijah found himself smiling amongst them. Even though he was not the Mayor yet, they regarded him as an up and coming star. Their approval sent a rush through him like the best high. But, a tether kept him taught to the ground.

Hanging on his arm was none other than his fiancé. Their engagement was still fresh, and despite his attempts to think of a better alternative to pitch to his father, it was still steadily moving toward a wedding in the summer. When he thought too hard about it, it made him gut harden to steel. If someone had paid attention, they would have noticed his use of downers accelerate in the last few months. But, no one did.

She laughed when she was supposed to, she rattled on about his accomplishments, and she even complimented the other wives on the parts of their outfits that seemed the most expensive. She was good at this and he knew it. That didn’t change anything for him, though. She would be a good ally and that was it.

As the conversation shifted, Elijah excused himself and left his fiancé in their “hands” while he navigated across the room toward the open bar. He kept a pleasant smile on his face, charming those he passed with well wishes and promises that he would return with a bourbon in hand. Everything was going to plan and he knew it. When he stopped at the bar, he did as he promised and ordered a top shelf bourbon neat. The burn was familiar and welcome, the heat spread throughout his chest as he sighed. Even his eyes fell closed in ecstasy, as if he were all alone.

[goldxnmanifest]

mckennaapplepie​:

–

Mckenna blinked at Elijah’s response, uncertain of why he thought it’d be unfortunate for him to see an old friend again. There had been nothing but warmth and hi-fives between them. Though school and on the pitch. It never occurred to him that were might’ve been something else brewing beneath the surface, much less something he’d be unhappy about. 

So he smiled a smile that was equal parts genuine and clueless.

“I was. My mom thought it’d be a good time for a break so we came back for a bit. It’s been a long five years without any rest so…”

He didn’t have an answer for that as he trailed off, unwilling to traverse down a path of regret and bitterness when he was living a dream. Relentless hours and a pervasive invasion of privacy was a small price to pay. At least that was what he told himself.

“I mean, I’m glad to be back,” he continued cheerfully. “LA’s cool and all but there’s no place like home. We renovated our house this summer too so once the weather clears up, I’m definitely gonna have a pool party.”

It was all so very rehearsed at that point that he hardly noticed how many times he’d regurgitated the same thing about their new house, humblebragging about the pool and yard just like how his mother had told him to. Mckenna didn’t think that Elijah would’ve bat and eye at it, however. He remembered the parties and get-togethers at the Windsor manor. It’d always been something his mother had aspired to and he was glad that he could provide her with it at last.

Mckenna looked him up and down, his pause usually awkward like he didn’t know what to say without a cue card. What was someone supposed to say upon reuniting? He hadn’t figured that out yet if the empty text messages to Natalia said anything.

“Sorry, it’s just been so long,” he said,  shaking his head with a sheepish laugh as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. “How have you been, man? Sorry I missed the re-opening of the ski lodge. I heard it was a big deal.”

Elijah listened with a fairly pleased look on his face. Mckenna was one of those guys who had everything going for them, and didn’t need to ask for a thing. Elijah knew what that was like. What Elijah didn’t have experience with was a family who actually stuck by your side. When he looked at Mckenna’s family, it was everything he didn’t have. A loving mother, a father who seemed to genuinely want his success with no strings attached. It was one of the few things that money couldn’t buy him.

He listened with a smile as Mckenna recanted the reason why he moved back and his lavish new home that had been renovated. “A pool party?” He enquired, his eyebrows raised in something between excitement and glee - though, not for the fully right reasons. It was all so simple - a deep part of him was jealous of the lack of complexity. Mckenna didn’t have a secret phone buzzing in his pocket about criminal activities. 

Anyway, the strong don’t envy the strong.

“It has been a long time,” Elijah mused, still digesting the information. He breathed deeply, as if to push down his excitement and then reached out an arm to drape it over Mckenna’s shoulders. “Come with me. I was just about to get lunch - it’ll be my treat. We can catch up.” He started to lead them away from the building, his mind never once concerned about Mckenna’s prior appointments.

[goldxnmanifest]

indyerstraits​:

–

Intoxication made his reactions sluggish but Jamie had a feeling that he wouldn’t have done anything different in the face of Elijah’s ire and a firearm. Getting shot would’ve been a mercy.

Jamie opened his arms to present his masterpiece to the man himself, his drunken graffiti in dull display. Somehow, even plastered to the nine hells, Jamie had managed to spell every insulting thing he could think of correctly, even if it was just a collage of every unfiltered thought that came through his head.

“Redecorating. Thought you could use a little more democracy,” he replied sarcastically. He rolled his eyes at the thinly veiled threat of incarceration, and then regretted that when the world kept spinning. 

Jamie swayed in place as if his feet were uncertain if they were still touching ground. He steadied himself on the side of the house as he gesticulated with the other hand.

“Yeah, reassuring considering the Sheriff does a whole lot of nothing,” he said. “There’s a murderer on the loose and he’s preoccupied with speeding tickets and misdemeanors. For all we know, there’s another Dollmaker on the horizon.”

Was he being petty? Sure. But he was owed that much after how many fees he was chipping away at since the Halloween party at the Astoria. The ski resort had done nothing but become the bane of his existence since it was erected and he could only think of one family to blame it all on. 

Jamie staggered forwards towards Elijah, tempting fate with all the bravado of a drunkard. “What then, huh, Windsor? How are you gonna brush that under the rug?”

What a night to be sober.

Elijah shoved the weapon into the rear waistband of his jeans, hopefully before he got the wrong idea to scare Jamie enough to get him to fuck off without involving the Sheriff. Sometimes he remembered the one night he was somewhat cordial to Jamie, somewhat genuine as they talked at the café - fat lot of good that did. Jamie was more of a thorn in his side than ever before and he blamed practically everything wrong with his life on Elijah and his family. 

Jamie could have never been an ally to him. They were on polar opposite sides of the spectrum. The universe liked to remind him of the “other” by putting Jamie in his way every now and again.

Elijah stepped over the shrubs outlining the small courtyard they stood in. When he stepped fully into the light, he could see the crude drawings Jamie had managed to put down - including enough obscenities that Elijah was surprised he hadn’t brought a thesaurus.

Already, Elijah was mulling over ways to get him off the property and make him someone else’s problem. But, watching him stumble all over the place, he was more likely to get hit by a car than make it back home and suddenly, Elijah was the last one to see him alive. Of course, they would just happen to wipe their security cameras and pay off the Sheriff again, but that was work.

Elijah had just about decided what to do when he watched Jamie lumber toward him out of the corner of his eye. He straightened out his arm between them, aiming to place his hand in the middle of Jamie’s chest to halt his drunken advance.

“What? Are you afraid that the big bad killer is going to come after you next? Because you’d be such a prize to catch. You wouldn’t even be a challenge.” Elijah shook his head in disgust - as if being near him was bringing down the property value. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea. Your death would be one of the easiest to cover up. Because, as we all know, we have so much practice,” he said sarcastically.

[goldxnmanifest]

indyerstraits​:

Alcohol and misdemeanors seemed to go hand in hand with Jamie. It was a rare day off which meant twelve hours of consecutive drinking. His wallet had been emptied hours ago, but locals at The Gallows had taken pity on him. Poor Jamie Dyer, what a shame he’d gotten into a car accident. Had he finally broken his brain? The teasing was in good fun, but Jamie couldn’t help but wonder if the impact had shaken something loose.

There was an indescribable anger that roared deep within his belly, unrelenting in its fury as it charred his ribs and seared his throat. Vile, caustic thoughts made homes in the cracks between responsibilities and mental accounting. It was sick and unbearable. Jamie usually knew better than to let it out, but the beer had whittled down any semblance of restraint he had left. Which was how he ended up at the Windsor residence with a can of spray paint for an encore of the last time he’d gotten arrested. 

He shook the can before he released it along the side of the house in long streaks that were meant to be letters. The darkness leant no clarity to his drunken poetry, but at least he had conviction.

“That’s how it all starts, doesn’t it? A ski lodge here. A Starbucks there. Soon, you’ll be buying up all the houses on Elm street for double the price,” Jamie ranted aloud to no one as he vandalized the house with colourful insults and vulgar graffiti. 

Jamie stumbled back to look over his artistry before deciding to go in again for finishing touches only to be met with a hiss. He shook the can and tried again before his patience dissolved in liquor. 

“Take all my paint too, why don’t you, you piece of shit,” he  barked at the house, pitching the can at a window in frustration. He swayed where he stood, staring up at the darkened glass.

“Why don’t you try spending our taxes on something worthwhile for once? Like trying to find the person who murdered Tommy Richter!”

@goldxnmanifest​

Ding ding. Ding ding.

Constant. Incessant. Tiring. Both of his phones going off at all hours of the night and he was simply drawn to answer them. One phone, in a gray leather case, was his more public one - it contained the password to LinkedIn and his more formal communication. His other phone, the one in a sleek black case, was his more nefarious one. The one locked with a 10 -digit code and was set to wipe after 2 failed attempts. The one that contained every ounce of criminal history he had. That was the one he was ignoring most right now.

For once, it was nearly early morning and he was sober and wide awake. Something about having a luncheon with his new fiancé tomorrow was keeping him awake. Maybe it was because Isadora would be there and he would have to try harder than usual to keep his eye on the woman he was meant to be there with. Isa was bound to make that difficult. 

Ding.

That was his formal phone. That could wait even longer than his criminal one. He’d ignored the notifications for hours - what’s a few minutes more?

Ding.

Elijah drew in a deep breath to calm himself. It was just a notification, he didn’t need-

Ding. Ding.

“What the FUCK,” he growled as he shoved himself away from the chair he’d slouched in. HE crossed the room to where he’d chucked the phone in frustration hours earlier and picked it up from the floor. Dozens of notifications covered his homepage - congratulations on new adventures, and a ribbon cutting on the new bakery that he managed, texts from Isa and his fiancé. But, what drew his eye was the most recent notification.

Security System Alert: Movement Detected on East Wing.

They got notifications like this all the time. But not at 3 am. And not 8 times in a row in the span of 10 minutes. While they normally had a security guard roaming, Henry Windsor in his all-perfect knowledge had given him the night off. Could the intruder have known that? Alarm bells sounded in Elijah’s ears. 

He moved quickly around the room. Sliding on tennis shoes, he then navigated to the bottom drawer in his huge desk to take out the loaded Glock he kept there. He verified there were bullets and slid on a coat over his thin t-shirt. But, natural adrenaline had a way of keeping him warm. He exited the home through the west wing, and rounded the perimeter of the home until he neared the east wing where the the alert came from. He could heard someone speaking, but he couldn’t make out their words. He paused by the corner to try and listen, his finger resting on the safety trigger on the gun. When he heard someone smash against a window, he stepped out from the corner and raised the gun.

“Oh, god damnit,” He groaned when he saw it was Jamie. He dropped the gun to his side, his finger moving away from the safety.  Elijah wasn’t surprised when the smell of cheap alcohol flooded his senses.

“Jamie, what the fuck are you doing?!” He motioned to the wall with his open hand, where obscenities and vulgarities. They would have to get this cleaned off before first light if he was going to keep it out of the papers. “You know damn well your taxes pay the Sheriff’s salary - and for the record, your taxes will be the one paying for his overtime when he comes out here to arrest you. AGAIN.”

[goldxnmanifest]

mckennaapplepie​:

Working for Isadora was not unlike working in LA. She handed him off scripts to memorize before regurgitating it to a lobby of old people with a smile on his face and heartwarming conviction. In a way, it satisfied his need to stay busy and out of his mother’s line of sight and moreover, her trust in the Morgans grew to the point that she didn’t ask any questions about where he was heading off to as long as he had papers in his hand.

To her, helping the Morgans also helped himself by getting his name out there to people with money, who had children who begged for said money, and purchased items with his name emblazoned on it to satiate the commercials companies who ended up paying him. It was all a lot of socio-political business nonsense that he had no interest in whatsoever.

Mckenna was in it for the girls. Or the girl. Though he wasn’t sure which one he was referring to anymore.

Isadora Morgan was sharp as a knife and treated him like her favourite spoon, using him to scoop up favour of those she needed it from the most. Any self-respecting guy would’ve opposed to being handled like a utensil, but Mckenna thrived off of being helpful. Especially to beautiful girls who gave him little pats on the shoulder for a job well done. It was like, totally symbiosis or whatever. 

It was partially the reason he had shown up at the mayor’s office, binder in hand. Isadora had handed him off a new proposal in script form but her needs had coincided with volunteering that his mother had signed him up for. It was the only reason he’d wound up there dressed like a high schooler, hair coiffed into a combover that hadn’t evolved much since graduation. 

“…As such, I would like to propose a rebuilding of– No, I would like to call a public hearing to explain the benefits of a multiplex in order to…” Mckenna massaged his temple as he recited the script while simultaneously trying to take off his letterman and straighten his tie. He’d been cautioned not to screw this up in front of the mayor. Isadora’s eyes had grown two sizes when she’d told him as much, and so he was determined not to.

It occurred to him then that maybe he should’ve prepared better, the rattling in his jacket pocket reminding him that he’d forgotten to take care of his knee that morning and afternoon. Mckenna paused, hand clutching the lump in his pocket through his jacket as a moment of deliberation came upon him until the sound of an opening door snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Jeepers! You scared me,” he said, tossing his jacket down over his binder. He brightened at the sight of Elijah, his surprise turning into genuine delight as he took in the sight of him.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Mckenna said, approaching him for a fonder hello as he extended a hand. “I thought you left for college.”

@goldxnmanifest​

Working at the Mayor’s office came with a few unspoken rules.

Keep the onsite drug usage to a minimum, or at least out of sight.

Be available in your office for your agreed upon office hours. Even if those hours came during the middle of the day and consisted of meeting with random “do gooders” in the community.

Rule #2 made keeping Rule #1 very difficult. The woman currently in his office was talking about sidewalk repair. Sidewalk repair. Elijah had two phones dinging about various properties his title company could acquire that would amass millions, as well as two adjacent properties that would be good hits to the “property value” if they were to be say... set on fire. 

Needless to say, Elijah was not listening. The second the clock struck 3pm, he was standing from his desk with an appeasing smile.

“Thank you so much for your time. I can see that this initiative is very important to you, and I can guarantee that I will present this to the Mayor himself personally,” he buttoned his suit jacket as he spoke, smoothing out the black fabric that paired with his black slacks. The very spoken third rule was to always dress to impress. The Versace buckle on his shoe would show that.

The woman nodded and cooed, saying something like, “oh, you remind me of your father when he was your age.” If only she knew what an insult that was. With her finally ushered out of his office, he locked it behind him, waved goodbye to his secretary, and sped down the stairs. As much as he wanted to be Mayor, he did not want to do mayoral duties like those. Those were mind-numbing and useless, but she was a constituent and she would vote for him.

His left hand had already slide onto his jacket’s interior pocket, closing around the little baggy, when he opened the door and nearly collided with a familiar face going nearly the same speed. There were very few people that Elijah would be pleased to see at a time like this, and Mckenna was one of them. He slowed his steps, and accepted the hand when it was presented to him, which he countered with a very rehearsed shake.

“I did,” he answered slowly, a barely concealed grin slipping into his words, “but unfortunately for you, they let me come back after graduation.” He furrowed his brows as he seemed to think, his eyes dropping down to the binder in his hand. The color was familiar. He returned his eyes to his old friends.

“And I thought you were in LA making a name for us?” There was a playful jest to his words, but there was an underlying excitement. If Mckenna was back, it meant he failed. And if Mckenna failed while Elijah succeeded as his post-high school endeavors, oh how sweet that would taste.

[goldxnmanifest]

// sit down, bitch be humble \

CONNECTIONS // MUSE // SKELETON // FULL BIO

tw: implied suicide, drug abuse

Keep reading

[goldxnmanifest]

I’m still updating things but here’s his intro again, lovelies! 

[goldxnmanifest]

oliverhayde​:

-

Oliver hoped those words wouldn’t come out of Elijah’s mouth but alas, the fucker is set to ruin this night for him. “Nah, no, nu-uh.” He shook his head. “Not today, I’m closed for business for today.” He smashed his cigarette on the ashtray and went for another drink. “Talk to me tomorrow.” Where he’ll be hungover and alone, his favourite. 

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” Oliver raised an eyebrow and looked at Elijah. “Get drunk? High? Go fuck? All at the same time? Anything that doesn’t including annoying the fuck outta me?” Oliver got up from the chair and went to his bag, there were a few more drugs in there but he had no interest whatsoever but eventually he found what he was looking for and pulled out the joint he never got to finish.

“Go have fun, Elijah, it’s Halloween.” Oliver grinned as he lit up the joint. “Your friendly neighborhood criminal will be here tomorrow.”

---

To be pretty fucking honest with you, Elijah was getting tired of everyone being a dismissive asshole to him. Maybe there was some soul searching to do there about how he treats those around him, but he was incapable of thinking that deeply right now. Instead, he read Oliver loud and clear. 

His face darkened as the other spoke. What he would give to not give a fuck for five minutes. But, no. There were always things to do. Even a night where he was supposed to be masked just turned into another night where he had to run away from his father’s opinions. 

“Yeah,” he responded vaguely, picking up his hat from the dresser, stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him. As he stood alone in the hallway, anger flooded through him. He had to get high and drink in solitude because if someone spoke about him being drunk or high, it would be the end of his father’s campaign. He couldn’t fuck anyone but Elle and even that came with a million strings and less likely to happen than Oliver getting a real job. 

He checked his watch and saw it tick past 3:15 am. That’s enough. He replaced the mask on his face and left the party. Holidays never did bring him the joy he hoped for. Maybe next year.

[goldxnmanifest]

indyerstraits​:

–

Jamie smirked a little at the approval. Even when wasted, he reveled in praise like a cat in a stinky laundry basket.

“Everything is a pseudoscience until people start coming around to it,” he said, sounding matter-of-fact about it. “I just like to be well-prepared should Yetis come down from the mountains and demand comeuppance for industrializing their land.”

He extracted a Bic from his sweater pocket and careened forward over the balcony railing to light his cigarette. Jamie exhaled his first drag like it was his first time he had all night. The coolness of autumn was a blessing on his cheeks where his mask would allow, the smoke billowing from his mouth a hazy veil over the dimly lit windows of Gravewood’s main street. Charlie had chosen a strange place for a party pad, but he supposed he couldn’t complain about the view.

Jamie jolted from his introspection when he heard a damning guess about his costume. 

“Pft, please. As if I would be so base,” he scoffed. “I’m the Beast of Bladenboro, neighbourhood pet nightmare and ferocious dog-slayer of winter 1953.”

He waited for a response. “Night creature of North Carolina?”

When the other didn’t seem to catch on, he rolled his eyes and stuck his cigarette back into his mouth.

“I’m a cat,” he spat, jutting out a hip. A long, fuzzy tail dangled from somewhere beneath his sweater. “I’m gonna assume you just punched in a Google search on alternatives to Batman and came up with that. It’s fine. I don’t expect everyone to be worldly.”

Jamie had a peculiar way of looking at the world. Anti-corporation. Anti-authority. He was Elijah’s polar opposite. He could never consider Yetis to be 1) real or 2) demanding reparations. Perhaps it was a certain level of creativity that he lacked. Something that Jamie would later roundabout guess at. When he finally revealed his costume, Elijah was rightfully unaware of the folklore. How Jamie had managed to happen upon that webpage, he would never know. 

But, when he shifted and the cat tail came into view. Elijah couldn’t contain the look of surprise on his face. A cat tail. This dude was wearing a cat tail and wondering why they threw him into the pool in high school. Especially when he decided to elevate himself over Eli’s costume, purely because he’d had to search harder. Elijah crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the railing.

“Are you always so dismissive of strangers?” He asked, his voice still pitched. “Just because your... costume is more obscure, that makes you more informed on cryptids? Do you think you might have chosen this outfit for the sole reason of proving that you know more about cryptids than anyone else at this party?” Elijah tilted his head as he spoke, watching the smoke trail out of the lit cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

“For the record, I enjoy the story of Jack the Ripper. You can read into that however you’d like.”

[goldxnmanifest]

oliverhayde​:

-

Oliver pointed to the cigarette in his mouth, clearly signaling the fact that he can, indeed, shut the fuck up. But it didn’t last long since once again he pulled the cigarette out. “I can shut up, just not for you.” He smiled sarcastically. 

Oliver was trying to figure out how to get out of their conversation without ruining his own mood but knowing Elijah it’s not going to go down that way since one wrong move and they’re threaten each other again and honestly? Oliver was not having that today. This is a party and he was going to have fun.

And what the fuck Elijah was still doing in the room? “I’m wearing pants, is that not enough?” He looked down at himself, and then at the corner of the room where his bag and the rest of his costume laid. “If you’re so shocked by a half naked man, you can leave anytime you want.” He took another drag from his cigarette. “I was here first.” 

Elijah took to ignoring him again as he moved to the window adjacent. He hoped to see the boy stumbling drunkenly out into the street. The only cherry on top was if a car blew past and took him out of the equation completely. Unfortunately, he was nowhere to be seen. 

“We both know I’m not shocked,” he muttered and turned away from the window. It suddenly dawned on him that this was the first time he’d seen Oliver since their run in at the club. Requests from his father’s office were piling up. Shit needed to get done, but it was far too much of a risk for Elijah to do it himself. As was Oliver’s petty threat to fuck him over if he went to anyone else for help. It put him in quite an uncomfortable position. 

He paused by the door, his fingers tapping against his leg. He turned back to him and said, “I have more work for you.”

[goldxnmanifest]

oliverhayde​:

Oliver sat down on the chair and closed his eyes, “What the fuck are you doing here?” He let his head rest, he didn’t have the temperament or time to deal with Elijah right now. “Get the fuck out, seeing you already makes me sober.” And he did not wanna be sober. 

He was drunk, high and enjoying the post effects of having sex and seeing Elijah was ruining his high. He opened his eyes and reached for the bottle, letting his cigarette hang between his fingers as he took a drink. “What are you doing?” He raised an eyebrow when he saw Elijah opening the door to look outside.

Chuckling, Oliver came to a possible conclusion. “Who are you hiding from?” He put the bottle down and returned his cigarette to it’s rightful place, his lips. On second thought Oliver shouldn’t have asked because he really didn’t care, he just wanted to continue smoking in peace and maybe find someone else to fuck. Maybe he should’ve kept the person that was in here beforehand.

On the other hand, they weren’t very good.

Elijah, very pointedly, ignored Oliver.

His voice was like nails on a chalkboard, making his already jittery nerves on high alert. His finger tapped idly on the wooden door as he peered outside. A few people meandered down the hallway, but none of them were the boy he was avoiding. The music thumped along somewhere in the house and he found his finger tapping to the beat.

He pushed the door closed and pulled off his mask, tossing it onto a dresser near the door. Who knows who’s shit was in it, but he didn’t care. Irritation continued to build up in his chest until he realized that Oliver was still talking.

“Is it physically possible for you to shut the fuck up?” Elijah answered his question with an equally irritating response. He was not hiding from anyone. He was trying to avoid the mess that Oliver caused in the first place. Eli ran a rough hand down his face as if to reset. Somehow his gaze wandered back over to the shirtless asshole by the window. He rolled his eyes in response.

“Where the fuck are your clothes? This isn’t a brothel, asshole.”

[goldxnmanifest]

oliverhayde​:

who: @goldxnmanifest​

where: random room in charlie’s place

when: close to 3am

“you can leave now,” Oliver said to the person that was together with him in bed and they looked at him like they were in disbelief by his request. “Bye,” Oliver waved his hand with a smile, already grabbing his cigarette and lighting it. The person cursed and complimented but Oliver ignored them and wait until they closed the door to get out of bed himself.

He could still hear the music, Oliver doubted the fun will die down until the early hours of the mornings but for now he deserves some more alcohol in his bloodstream and it felt like the tiny itch in the back of his mind was being finally scratched again when he took that big first drink. 

Oliver went to his clothes and put his pants on, he ignored the heavy Plague Doctor upper outfit for now, he was hardly in any hurry to leave the fucking room, alas his peace and quiet was short lived when someone came in and closed the door. “Find another room to fuck,” 

tw explicit drug mentions

Adderall drummed through his system and drowned out his thoughts. The music swirled in and out of focus as he half-walked half-stumbled through the house. Or, what was left of it. It was nothing compared to the opulence the two heirs had once known. They’d both been born with silver spoons, but Charlie had been stupid enough to spit it out. 

Tonight, though, it didn’t matter. Not who his dad was or even who he was. Here, he was anonymous. Or, as anonymous that a wool cape and triangle mask can supply. His eyes moved lazily over people dancing nearby, his eyes unashamedly brushing over scantily clad men and women alike. It wasn’t until a certain chest caught his eye and stirred something within him. That same tanned skin and wide grin. Realization hit him just as the man lifted his eyes to find Elijah standing on the edge of the room.

Elijah pushed through the crowd, leaving the music and the boy behind. He could still practically taste the molly from the club and that boy on his lips. But, no. This was too close to home. Charlie was here. Elle was in the house somewhere, though he didn’t particularly care where. All that matters is that the boy forget that it ever happened. Once he’d ducked down a quiet hallway, he was sure he was alone. But voices inched closer to the hallway, slurred words that could have been anyone but Eli’s frantic mind told him who it was. Before the pair could spot him in the hallway, he stepped through the nearest door and shut it behind him. 

The only thing that could have possibly made this worse was an irritated Oliver chiding him the minute he got there. He affixed him with a glare thrown over his shoulder, but hesitated when he saw the state Oliver was in. He blinked and spun back toward the door. Pushing out an irritated breath, he finally responded. 

“And miss out on quality time with you? Never.” He pulled the door open just a crack and peered into the hallway.

[goldxnmanifest]

indyerstraits​:

WHO:Jamie & @goldxnmanifest​​​ ​​ WHERE:Second floor balcony WHAT:😈 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IfQumd_o0Gk

Parties were proving themselves to be the greatest reality tv show and Jamie’s morbid curiosity was thrilled to get a front show seat in the live audience as he skulked from room to room like a real cat. It was fascinating to watch people devolve into weeping messes and hulking beasts, the raw and genuine display of emotion delighting him in the same way guts and gore delighted movie goers.

What didn’t delight him, however, were the sheer number of bland costumes that had nothing to do with cryptozoology. There were fairy ballerinas and Jason, a girl in a snorkel and flip-flops like a Summer vacation brochure. Jamie narrowed his eyes at a guy in zombie make-up carrying a suitcase, wondering if his choices were ingenious or plain stupid. 

When the rec room roared to life at a dare among the group currently playing, Jamie decided that it was his cue to dip before he saw something he didn’t want to.

It was then that he caught the silhouette of something dark and mystical at the balcony, a horned creature with a cape like Batman. Jamie gravitated towards them like a cow to a UFO, hoping to be beamed up to the stars where he’d get to see something cool. As he neared them, he realized the horns were of a tricorne and the cape an old, Victorian jacket. 

“Interesting choice,” Jamie commented aloud, propping his arms against the balcony railing as he fiddled with a box of cigarettes.

“Spring-heeled Jack, early 19th century devil man first sighted on October 1837, by Mary Stevens in Battersea, South London. Not a something I’d pick myself, as I prefer more subtlety in my horror, but I can appreciate a clever work-around for The Ripper. I was beginning to wonder if anyone understood the assignment.”

Feeling a cigarette into his mouth, he cut the guy a side-long look and said, “Unless you’re supposed to be one of the musketeers, in which case, shame on you.”

There weren’t many opportunities for Elijah to be out in public and maintain a sense of anonymity. He’d learned his less at the club - he was recognizable almost anywhere. So tonight, he donned a hat that doubled as a mask, enough to hide his more prominent features and attempt to give him a new identity. Even if only for a night. 

So far, it’d been working. Even Charlie hadn’t called him out yet and Charlie seemed to have an eagle eye for the exact things Eli didn’t want known. As the night wore on and his inebriation only grew, he wandered out to the balcony for some fresh air. His happily drunk mind played the slutty outfits inside on a constant loop - short skirts, bared chests, the false sense of security around string bikinis. Even Elle had pulled out the stops, something he didn’t expect from the heiress, but he wasn’t complaining. Just as his mind has started to wander deeper into the gutter, a familiar presence joined him.

Elijah was ready to spar with Jamie the minute he spoke, but something in his tone surprised him. There wasn’t venom, more amused appreciation. Elijah knew his outfit was good, but he didn’t expect Jamie to 1) offer conversation or 2) comment on it without some snide comment. Suddenly, it dawned on him - Jamie hadn’t recognized him yet. A seed of excitement grew in his chest. He could have fun with this.

“Someone did their research into cryptids,” Elijah mused, dropping his voice just enough to distort, crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes drifted down Jamie’s costume, finding all of the regalia of a werewolf in the making, down to the sharp claws on his fingertips. “Let me guess: werewolves in london?”