country roads

life is old there, older than the trees. younger than the mountains, growing like a breeze. country roads, take me h o m e to the place I belong Iain Burke. 30. farmer. Bartender.

[welcometoyouredoom]

[richard-madden-archived]

15 days per character: {12} leo west (ibiza)

[iain-burke]

lucieoc‌:

“ I’m so sorry, please? ” the brunette smiled sheepishly, shocked by her own rudeness. This was not how she was raised; clearly the blunt London attitude was getting to her. And also the blunt attitude of the industry she had chosen, but still, she had no right to be rude to the person that could quite easily refuse her the sweet alcoholic drink she so desperately wanted, no needed.

“ I’m gonna try my manners again. Thanks for the drink. You wanna hear my story? ”  He didn’t answer so she continued anyway. “ I had an audition, I got cut, I didn’t get it. Sorry, you’ve probably got more interesting people to talk to than me. ” 

She hoped he’d continue what he was doing and she could drink her glass of wine, wallowing in her own self pity and shame. But she looked up and he was still there hovering. She tucked her hair behind her ear, crossing her right leg over her left on the bar stool, waiting to hear what he had to say.  

Her expression reminded him slightly of his nephew’s when corrected on using manners, and with this thought he couldn’t help but chuckle slightly, softening him.  “It’s okay, love.  Just don’t let it happen again.” he warned, somewhat playfully, as he popped open a new bottle, the last having just been finished off by a regular.  

He listened to her story as he poured, and it was a story he had heard many times before, as generally people coming in after failure was about 1/3 of the pub’s patrons.  Sliding her glass over to her he shrugged.  “Eh, you’re right, I do.  But you’re the one who looks like she’s gonna knock over at least a bottle tonight so I figured I’ll hang ‘round.”

“What kinda audition, anyways?”

[iain-burke]

cassxmoore‌:

The pub was entirely too loud to pick up the conversation on the other end of the phone, so Cass had moved to the front entrance, speaking with her mother and grandmother for a few minutes before telling them it was late and she had to go. Time zone differences were much worse when you were half a world away. After hanging up the phone, she stepped outside for a breath of fresh air, taking in a deep breath before she heard the man in front of her speaking. His voice was soft, but she still picked up what he said. Assuming it meant he was okay with conversation, she stepped a little closer, crossing her arms over her chest to ward off the slight chill in the air as she craned her neck back, looking up at the sky. “Same. I miss seeing all the stars,” she mused after agreeing with him. It wasn’t that London was a bad place; she was enjoying it for the most part - but growing up outside of Dallas on a ranch meant that she would always be a country girl at heart, longing for star-filled skies and wide-open spaces. 

Finally.  Someone who agreed.  He had spoken to many people over the years of his grievances against the city’s skies, and no one seemed to feel that same.  They all offered reasons as to why they loved the lit up city.  Loved that something was always going on, or they never felt alone.  And Iain couldn’t help but strenuously disagree with all their arguments.  Sometimes he wanted to be alone.  Sometimes he just wanted it to be quiet, he didn’t want something to always be going on.  As she spoke, American clear as day, Iain couldn’t help but wonder exactly where she was from, geography having never being one his best subjects in school.  He really had no idea where in the states you’d be able to stand under a blanket of stars, only knowing the big cities with significance.  “Sky looks fuckin’ miserable without them, that’s for sure.” he replied, his eyes once more trained on the flat sky.  “And where are your stars from, anyways?” he asked, some odd round-a-bout way of asking her where she was from.

[iain-burke]

dianacampbcll‌:

She nodded at his assumption. “Edinburgh.” A pause hovered between them when she still struggled to admit that she had spent so much time in another city. “And then New York so I suppose I have just always been used to them.” For a moment she’s quiet, simply taking in the view once more as she debates how much to confess to a practical stranger. There was something familiar about him but not enough for there to be any recognition so she felt somewhat confident that they wouldn’t run into one another unless she revisited the pub. Usually she would have held her tongue, using silence as a defence mechanism but the feeling of almost anonymity makes her that little bit bolder and she makes a soft confession. “I’ve always seen the lights as little beacons that you’re not alone in the city, there’s always someone else up somewhere.” 

To be honest, Iain thought Edinburgh was probably one of the only cities he wouldn’t mind visiting.  At  least from the pictures it seemed that way.  With places like Dean village where you could steal moments of quiet, he didn’t think he’d mind it as much as London.  Of course, still wouldn’t be home, but perhaps an improvement.  “Ach, New York, huh?  I think that’d be the only place I’d hate more than here.” he offered with a chuckle.  As she spoke of why she didn’t mind the lights, he thought it over for a moment, and while he understood what she was saying he’s just not sure if it was something he found comforting.  ‘ mean, I guess--But sometimes,  don’t you want to be alone?”

[iain-burke]

atlasxtaylor‌:

Atlas couldn’t help but laugh at the words spoke by the other, having heard peoples opinions about the city like that one before. “It doesn’t stop, but some people like the idea of always having something to do and something going on.” He commented, pausing before the question was sent towards him. “I mean, I’m a bit biased. I’ve lived in this city my entire life. London is just home. I love the people and the culture. The fact that you can find so much happening everywhere. However, like I said, I’m biased.” Atlas continued. “Guess it just depends on how you feel about it. But it might depend on where you came from.” 

“I guess it’s just all about the way you view things, eh?  ‘Cause the thought of there always bein’ somethin’ goin’ on makes me want to put a nail gun up to me skull.”  Despite the rather graphic description he painted, Iain smiled slightly.  “Ach, I don’t think it much matters where you came from.  I just think it’s somethin’ you’re born with, yeah?  I mean, here I am, from tiny bit of farm land in north west Ireland, hatin’ everything ‘bout this city, bur then ye got me little sister, who just...Can’t seem to get enough. --- Pretty sure it’s nature over nurture.”

[midsommars-deactivated20201109]

[lesbianshepard]

”and, you know, as mad as that made me as a little kid, in retrospect that is the funniest thing i have ever seen in my entire life”

[iain-burke]

marlcnking‌:

Grimacing, Marlon tipped his head forward with an embarrassed laugh. “Yeaaaah, I knew I should’ve gone with my gut,” he said, nodding. “Does it help if I tell you it all sounds like sweet, sweet music to my ears?” Innocence painted his smile again, and though it was entirely for the purpose of the joke, there was sincerity in there, as well. Accents had always been something Marlon loved, whether they be a variation of English or simply English punctuated by another language. Granted, he did have certain difficulties telling them apart, but… that didn’t mean he didn’t truly appreciate them. He just… struggled to tell them apart, was all. Bah! And he called himself a musician. “And, you know, you kinda got a point,” Marlon conceded, taking another sip of his beer. “Things are… weird, back home. But! I didn’t actually run. Not to be a total cheese ball but I moved here for a boy.” There was sadness in his smile, but it didn’t last long. “Eat it, Paris! Whoever said London couldn’t be the city of love?”

“Sorry but ye lost all credibility after that guess, so I don’t believe much that comes out of ye mouth now.”  Iain responded with a playful shrug, his hands busy drying a glass.  Although, he couldn’t exactly blame him.  The only two American accents he knew were ‘southern’ and ‘new york’, anything other than that and he was dumbfounded.  Sure, he wasn’t exactly getting an entire country wrong, but still.  “A boy, huh?” he questioned, looking the man over, noticing the slight change in his misdemeanor.  It was his job to read people, and it had taken him a bit to cultivate the skill (especially seeing as before had been to read animal body language, not human, it had left him at a disadvantage in the beginning), so he couldn’t help but ask “Let me guess, didn’t end well? --- Followin’ people places never does.”  That he spoke from experience.  “Hmm, well, that’s an interestin’ take.  Tell me if ye find a romantic spot in this God forsaken city, ‘cause I don’t think it exists.”

[iain-burke]

lucieoc‌:

      “ Merlot, large. ” Lucie ordered from the bar of the pub she had just entered. 

      Yet another audition that she had been cut from, right at the very last round. It felt as though every time she took a step forward, she was always thrown ten steps backwards. She had been back in London for six months now and she still wasn’t any closer to landing a role. 

      Of course, she could always take the easy way out again. Spend another year working abroad, performing every night, but of course she would be right back here where she was on her return. There had to be a part for her somewhere. She just needed to find it. 

“Ye know ye could always add a please or a thank you on the end of that order, yeah?”  Iain asked, but obliged the woman the drink anyways, and got a wine glass off the rack.  Iain was a patient man, he had to be, his first and longest job being working with family with livestock, and now being an uncle to a small child and working with the general public.  But what he couldn’t abide by was plain out rudeness.  He usually rolled with the punches, as one had to if their chosen profession was anything to do with customers and patrons, after all, his lively hood quite literally depended on patrons liking him and coming back.

But after being interrupted in a conversation with a regular, he figured he could say something about it.  Sliding the drink in front of the impatient brunette, he gave in  “Alright, what’s the story?  What’s got ye on the tear?”

[iain-burke]

aislinged‌:

marybvrke‌:

TIME FRAME: early march 2020 CHARACTERS: @aislinged​ & @iain-burke​

She was late. Well, alright – not technically. Technically there wasn’t an actual itinerary, no meeting to make, bus or train to miss. But Mary had told herself she’d go straight to the address that, presumably, led to her siblings’ flat; that she would sort out her arrival first and foremost and then enjoy everything London had to offer. So naturally she had to go and get distracted by literally everything around her. She felt like a wean at Christmas, taking in the colorful impressions and having a sensory overload. And she loved it. An hour after the deadline she’d set for herself, Mary finally came trudging down the street toward the address written in her phone’s notebook, and it took her no time at all to find the right door. Was that nerves tickling the pit of her stomach? No. Excitement. Excitement at being in London, excitement at seeing her siblings again. This was going to be great.  The look on Aisling’s face as she opened the door and laid eyes on Mary was priceless. If Mary’d had any foresight, she would have had her phone ready – but instead she merely squealed “Surprise!”, dropped her bags, and threw her arms around Aisling’s neck. When Iain appeared next, Mary let out another “Surprise!” and pulled her sister over to him, so that she could hug them both at the same time. “I missed you so much!”

the first thing aisling felt when she opened the door was relief. as much as she tried to pretend she didn’t miss her family with everything in her, she did. seeing her baby sister, the girl she’d helped raise and then up and left, well, it felt a little bit like coming home. admittedly, mary was one of the last people she’d expected to find on the outside the door to their tiny little london flat, but it slowly dawned on her that something like this was going to happen eventually. coming from such a close-knit family, she couldn’t expect to cut them all out of her life so cleanly, and iain’s earlier appearance had shown her that.

except that the second thing aisling felt when she opened the door was panic. thanking god that ruairi was down for a nap in the other room, that iain was home to serve as backup, she returned mary’s embrace tightly if for no reason other than to hide the expression on her face. “oh, i missed you too, love,” she cooed, taking a step back and holding onto her sister’s arms. trying to make the motion as subtle as possible, she turned to look at iain, a silent plea for help in her eyes. as much as she loved her sister - she couldn’t know. none of them could know. her parents would never forgive her, would mary even forgive her? stealing herself to ask the blunt question that had to be asked, aisling tried to speak as gently as possible. “but what are you doing here?”

Even on his day off, even with Ruarí down for a nap, Iain could still be found puttering around the flat; putting away the dishes, folding laundry, fixing small things, things of the like.  The man didn’t know what to do with himself if his hands weren’t doing something.  And it wasn’t like he was about to sit down and watch some Netflix.  It hadn’t been his style back home, and it wasn’t his style here.  While his hands had been busy drying dishes, his mind had been elsewhere, far away enough that he thought he must’ve been having a very lucid daydream when that voice reached his ears.  But as Aisling responded, Iain knew it was no day dream, and in a rush to put down the plate in his hands, he chipped it on the side of the counter, but paid no mind before rushing to the door, his head peaking over his sister’s shoulder, before being roughly pulled into a hug.  

Face unchanged from the moment he saw one of his younger siblings, he looked at her in shock.  “Mary?”  He questioned, a large grin on his face, despite having previously confirmed this was no day dream, he still said her name incredulously, as if needing to be sure.  The gnawing feeling of homesickness that had been stuck in his gut for years now seemed to lift slightly as he saw his sister.  Although, guilt quickly took it’s place as he looked at her, at how much she had grown in the three years since he had left home.  She was no longer a girl, that was for sure.  In fact, she was just a bit younger than Aisling had been when she had left home.  Oh god, he hoped this wasn’t another situation like that.  

Iain followed up Aisling’s question with one of his own.  “And do Ma and Da know ye’re here?”

[iain-burke]

atlasxtaylor‌:

Atlas couldn’t imagine not living in the city, just because he it was his home. While he liked small trips to the country side, in order to see everything, he couldn’t stay there long. He would eventually miss the noise and the movement of the city itself. There was a small chuckle at the other mans words and he nodded his head. “It’s not for everyone. I know sometimes the lights and noise can be a bit much.” He offered, understanding that some people didn’t always think how he did. “How long have you been living in the city?” 

“A bit much?  I don’t know how ye folk don’t have more cases of people just losin’ their damn heads.” He shook his head slightly.  “It just never stops, do it?  Ye can’t find one damn minute of peace in this city.”  He complained.  “Why do you like it?”  The question may have come off somewhat rhetorical, but Iain was actually curious.  He just couldn’t understand it in the least.  “Three years, unfortunately.  Ye’d think that’d be enough time to get acclimatized, but not for me, apparently.”

[iain-burke]

selenanewf‌:

“Oh no, I’m listening. Keep going – - please.”

Sarcasm dripped from every word, thick and heavy on her tongue while her fingers worked aimlessly against random letters to create an auto-corrected mess. The drone of potential conversation could be successfully blocked out with minimal work, but there was no way to avoid the huff of a waitress as she shuffled away from the bar. Far be it from Selena to care; she hadn’t exactly invited anyone for conversation, and she definitely didn’t ask for anyone to sit next to her just as she thought she was safely alone.

Instead of taking the usual approach of ‘if I ignore them, they’ll go away’, Audrey made the mistake of scanning the person who apparently had enough social grace to leave a seat between them. Her typing resumed, a lengthy chain sent off to a friend’s number. The familiar sound of an outgoing message came before her cup of coffee was placed in front of her, leaving Selena to mentally reprimand herself for making sure the waitress hadn’t spit in it or something equally disgusting. But still, coffee was coffee and Selena was exhausted – - a long drink revealed that the coffee was ice cold and, judging by the taste, had been left over from the previous day or was simply a particularly shitty, store-bought brand.

“– - My god.” She shuddered, repulsed and suddenly in the mood for speaking to strangers. The kitsch neon sign above the coffee-pots was indicated with a nod of disdain, yet she still took another long drink. “I really hope this isn’t ‘the best coffee in town’.

Lids fluttered over blue eyes as Iain tried to stay awake.  He hung his head over his steaming cup of coffee as he waited for it too cool down, perhaps hoping to obtain some energy through absorption, just to get him through the next couple of minutes.  The pub had closed at 11, like always, and it took him about an hour to clean and lock up, but then Iain was off to help a colleague out at a nixer of a private party, desperately in need of the money as suddenly there was a fourth mouth to feed when before there were only three.  He had only finished an hour before, but realized if he was to stay awake on the tube then he’d need caffeine, and as much as he could get.  

He gave the waitress a nod of appreciation and a sluggishly mumbled ‘thanks, love’ as she placed the check in front of him, waking up barely enough to pull the correct change out of his pocket.  As he did so, he couldn’t contain his earwigging tendencies and listen in on the conversation happening a few seats away between waitress and patron.  And he couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the woman’s attitude.  Sure, had the waitress gotten on his nerves a bit as she filled their entire two minute interaction with gobshite?  Yeah, of course.  But he knew she was just trying to be friendly and do her job, so he nodded his head, and ‘hmmm’ed and ‘uh huh’ed at the right moments, knowing the interaction would be over eventually.  He was too tired to get into his seating neighbor’s seemingly lack of human decency, or so he thought at least.  But then the woman turned to him for some sort of...Confirmation?  Back up?  He wasn’t sure, but Iain, normally someone people might describe as a grump, hadn’t slept in about 24 hours and before he could stop himself words were sliding out of his mouth.

“Aye, well, perhaps if you treated service workers with some actual respect ye wouldn’t have gotten the shite coffee.---See?  Mine’s steamin.”  He paused to take a sip.  “Don’t taste too bad neither.”

[iain-burke]

marlcnking‌:

To Marlon’s absolute delight – which shone brightly through his smile clear as day – the man poured him his free drink. Of course, Marlon also wrestled down the impulse to take his act in the most dramatic direction possible, complete with knocking over items on the bar in a bid for a distraction and rushing out of the joint as though he had something to hide. The fantasy was enough to sate his impulse – it wasn’t like the man would chase him, even if the joke of it came across. Which Marlon knew it certainly wouldn’t. “What? No! I love my country. I’d never flee from it,” he protested, taking a big ole sip of his beer and looking away in faux guilt. “For all I know, you might be the man I’m looking for. That… Iri– uh, Wel–…,” Marlon hesitated, his words dragged out in uncertainty. Curse his American ears! “…Scottish? Accent? Won’t work on me?” Innocence painted across his smile, he hoped against hope he was right. 

The last time Iain had seen someone that excited over a pint was probably a tie between a new mother’s first drink in over a year, and a regular’s first drink of the day.  But regardless, it was refreshing, and Iain couldn’t help but chuckle, although it was accompanied by a small, playful roll of the eyes.  “Ye sure about that?  With what’s goin’ on over there I don’t think anyone would blame ye.”  He knew that he, a citizen of the UK also really couldn’t speak on the topic while being in a glass house but, it was a fun distraction nonetheless.  “Ach, you almost had it, boyo.  Lesson learned, always go with your gut.  Irish. -- Honestly, bit offended you’d mistake this beautiful brogue for Scottish.”  Sarcasm was the only way Iain ever really knew how to joke.  

[iain-burke]

andimaddcx‌:

She shook her head, slipping her phone into her pocket as she stepped towards him, glancing down the street. Previous rainfall reflecting the dim street lights. Glistening the roads. Andi nodded, “Born and raised in the big apple,” she exhaled. “But have you been to Covent Garden on a sunny day or watched buskers by hyde park?” She exhaled happily. “Wandered around Camden where street vendors are happily cooking their home dishes; hoping others will love it as much as they do,” A nostalgic smile settled on her lips. “You might not love cities, but you have to be open to seeing all the good. Otherwise, you’ll spend your time miserable.” She shrugged, pulling a cigarette out of her pocket and sparking a light.

“I’m sorry, but I gotta stop ye there.--Do people actually call it that?  And if so, why?  Where in the hell did that come from?” Color him curious.  It had always been something so strange to him, and despite having a phone and access to google, he had never got around to asking the internet his question.  “Fine, all those things are bang on, but...It don’t compare to how you can tell a rain is comin’ just by the way the clouds over Benbulbin look, or seein’ the ocean stretched before ye endlessly when ye sit atop Streedagh Point, or even just standin’ dead alone in the middle of a field, knowin’ there’s no one for miles ‘round.”  Recounting some of his favorite spots of home felt good in the moment, but as they left his mouth, all they did was make him feel more sick for home than ever.  “You’re one helluva optimistic person, but unforunately, I think ye’ve met you’re challenge in me.”

[iain-burke]

edisonbeaumont‌:

Edison appreciated the expedience, even if he wasn’t fully aware of how much thought the man had put into the organization system behind the bar. He also couldn’t help being put at ease by the easy rhythm & nostalgically familiar cadence of another Irishman. His brow lifted as soon as he heard it, but his next thought was one he immediately had to push back as a little voice in the back of his skull said of course you’d find another in pub. 

Edison breathed a sigh, giving his head a small shake to show that no offense had been taken, eyes going from the bartender to the door & back. “Honestly, I’m glad I found the place.” He admitted, sidestepping the question & taking the glass as it was handed to him. Neat. Perfect, Edison thought, his fondness for the place growing yet again. “What’s the normal type then?” Edison said, looking about though not seeing much in the way of other patrons. He had a feeling he knew & felt a touch over-dressed & harried, but the amber in the glass would ease that in no time. He was about to take a drink when he realized he didn’t even know the name of the place. He looked around briefly for some indication but found nothing outside of the logos of brewing companies & sports teams. “What’s this place called then?”

To be quite honest, if Iain hadn’t caught the lilt of the man’s voice, he doubted he would’ve spoken any further than offering the man his drink and asking him if he could get him anything else.  But, Iain had woken up with a rather pointed sense of homesickness that morning.  It was always underlying current to his daily life, but this morning it had made a point to make itself known.  And hearing the accent of home (well, maybe not exactly, but he’d take an East coast accent over the many different London area ones any day), struck him with the same feeling and a deep urge to keep the man talking.   

“Ah, well you got you’re regulars--” he said with a nod to the only other patrons that could be found in the pub this early, the term was a polite way of saying they were people who had to be here or otherwise they’d be experiencing a terrible case of the shakes.  “Then ye got your new to Hackney residents, ye know the ones, bit too cool for it all, tryin’ to find a pub that looks authentic enough that they can put it on social media to try and seem different.”  That one earned a roll of the eyes “--Then ye just got people who live ‘round, don’t make much of a fuss, just stoppin’ in for a pint after work.” he paused.  “But ye don’t really look like any of the above.”   --- “Ach, what?  Ye mean to say ye didn’t catch our completely faded sign outside? Shame.  Wolfhound Pub is the name, most locals just call it the Hound.”

[iain-burke]

aislinged‌:

alcohol always had a way of bringing out the irish spirit usually kept hidden behind her gentle demeanor; knowing she had to watch herself didn’t quite stop aisling from rolling her eyes as she took another sip. “well, when ye have you’re own child, feel free to bring them back to the farm.” tone as light as she could manage, though still unable to tear her eyes from the drink in hand to look at him, she sighed. aisling loved her brother more than almost anyone else in the world, but that didn’t change the fact that iain was her sibling and would always know just how to press her buttons. wanting to avoid an argument, but too stubborn to ever fully back down, aisling focused in on the two topics she knew could distract him: food, and ruairi. “that was one time, and i still don’t know what he put into those cupcakes.” with so much of her time spent at work or in their own cramped kitchen, aisling made a point to include ruairi as much as possible, letting him stir batters or “help” roll out dough. “oh, and here i was thinkin’ ruairi should start chopping vegetables when we make dinner, make the wee rascal pull his weight around the house.”

While generally a quiet guy, Iain was never at a loss for words.  But it seemed as if his sister had managed to help him in that feat.  It took him a moment to even get a loose grip on understanding why her words had near about knocked the wind out of him, but eventually he came to the realization that while he had never thought about himself as Ruairí’s father, he did think about him somewhat like a son.  How couldn’t he?  He fed him, he washed him, he read him bed time stories and generally took care of him half of the time.  Hell, he had even stopped correcting people who asked questions that inferred that the boy was his son.  One because it was a waste of time, but secondly it didn’t make that much of a difference in the long run, when he was doing all the duties of a father anyways. -- But guiltily, in the far back of his mind, in a voice so quiet it was almost imperceptible, an angry, bitter thought began to form in response to her telling him he could do what he liked with his own child; ‘After helping you raise yours, if I have time enough for my own, I’ll be sure to keep that in mind’.  He’d never say it of course.  It was his choice to stay in London with Aisling.  He couldn’t blame her for him putting his own life on hold.  He was a grown man.  If he wanted to leave he could, and he couldn’t put the responsibility of his choice on anyone’s back but his own.  But still, the thought nagged at him.  He blamed it on the gnawing sense of homesickness he had been feeling lately, feeling it stronger than ever.    “Eh, think it’s better if we don’t know.”  He said with a subdued shrug, suddenly not much in the mood for being out and about.