some things are inevitable @ingeniouslii - Tumblr Blog

Introducing: Freddie Mancuso

#phqintro #✰ freddie;about

whisper: you know how to tell the difference between a frog and a horny toad?

whisper: frogs say "ribbit", horny toads say "rub it"

---

freddie: did you know that a swarm of ants can overpower a single horned toad?

#✰ whisper;text

Gram:

*

Freddie began to speak. Then silence. Gram’s shoulders fell. Clearly there were strong feelings still wrapped up with in the painting. Not quite to Freddie’s taste. Gram bit his lip as Frederick continued. Crossed arms relaxed and unfurled. He reached for the champagne and began to peel away the seal and untwist the cage that covered the cork.

“For a minute there– I thought you were turning into the skeptic.” He glanced over with a grin. They debated the unusual, the supernatural, with cool heads but differing opinions. When it came to the string of mysteries that had continued since they’d arrived, those debates for the sake of the show had become muddled. “I’m not sure how it all connects either. But, ah. Three holes?” Gram had obviously missed something during his last shift at Riff Raff’s. “What are you talking about?”

Pop! He filled two glasses and his brows drew tight as he listened. “I’ve heard the same thing about people. Out here.” Missing. It hit a little too close to home, and Gram preferred not to think about it. He handed a filled and chilled glass to Freddie with a faint smile. “Oh. Rhys? Have you met them? They’re very… talkative.” Rhys was the type of character who was very hard to miss and difficult to forget.

“He knows a lot about the history of the town. And is very willing to talk about it for the podcast. He said the ranch is haunted.” That wasn’t the main point though. “You know the story about the ghost at the lake? Edith Alby.”

There had been a lot of history to absorb once they moved to Pleasance. Freddie and Gram had laid out a fairly extensive schedule for the next season of their podcast. Gaps needed to be filled, and Rhys could do that. “She visits Rhys. Has since he was a kid. A little less now, but.” And to quickly shore up his own opinion on the matter: “That’s what he told me. I think it’s worth having him over to record a segment. Or several.”

.

He tilted his head, unable to resist that crooked grin. He smiled, instinctively, though he wanted to counter. He was a skeptic. But there were universal certainties that could not be denied simply because one wanted definitive proof - pictures and videos, as if these things could not be manufactured; explanations that went beyond personal experience as if he could not trust his own senses - Freddie knew there were forces in this world that defied explanation.

“I had to drill a few holes to get to the pipes. The water was all messed up. It’s back on in the kitchen, but just use the jugs I bought from the store for now.” Forever, really. After the gloop he’d seen coming through the facet, Freddie would not have used it for any amount of money.

Accepting the glass, he set it in front of him. Let his fingers trail along the rim. He listened. Nodded at the name. He’d met Rhys once. At the grocery store, during the great debate over which canned goods should make up his shelves, and what they might best be used for. To date, he had yet to use any of them. It was easier to pick something up ready-made.

“I’ve not heard about Edith Alby,” he answered, and he frowned. Had he been so wrapped up in the house, he’d neglected his main priority? Well, secondary priority. His main priority sat in front of him, holding a glass of champagne. The podcast would always be second if there was a choice to be made. Freddie’s frown deepened as the story continued.

“She... visits?” he echoed. Each individual hair on his arm rose, and a strange feeling sank into the pit of his stomach. “And what if she comes follows along for the interview? What if she never leaves? I’d rather not have a lake ghost in the house when the water is already malfunctioning.”

Among a thousand other reasons.

“I suppose we could bring some equipment to a neutral location.” He reached for Gram’s hand. “Alternatively, we could do an interview through the basement window. That way we aren’t extending the invitation for any ghostly entities to enter the house.”

#✰ gram;forest

Jax:

Jax looked surprised when one of her favourite items was snatched from the ground and opened up right in front of her. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to be mad or if she didn’t feel about it. Maybe she should. She hadn’t even smelled it herself yet. She sat down on her hunches and picked up all the items in her hands.

“No, it was just some discard item,” she noted, then pointed at the bottle with a finger. “Can I have that back? I like the bath items.”

.

“Oh, of course.” Freddie clicked the lid back in place, and held out the bottle. Perhaps he might buy something similar. Not that he needed it. He’d only been in town for a few months, and his bathroom was already cluttered with multiple bottles that had been used once then cast aside for something new.

“Shame about the bag, though,” he added, “Do you need help carrying all this?”

#✰ jax;around town

Bishan:

“You know where to find me,” Bishan offered with a wink, though not too suggestive, he could use the job if offered, he might be able to convince one of his mates to pretend they sold houses instead. That would be a nice change of pace for them too, to play the one in charge for a moment. “Thank you,” he said, certain that Freddie could barely remember what the inside looked like. If it wasn’t his own bar, he was certain neither could he. And if he did, well, a bonus, since most bars looked exactly the same around these parts.

“Aside from being the main bar and selling the best-“ he held up another joint - “I’ve been trying to see what other businesses in town would be a nice addition to my empire,” he joked.

.

Freddie had known a person or two in his time that liked to use phrase ‘building an empire’. He’d never seen the appeal himself. Empires were an awful lot of work. People nagging all day about this or that. Then, among the naysayers, there was always a handful who wanted nothing more than to see the downfall of a beloved figurehead. The type that relished in the opportunity to kick a person when they were down, and steal everything that person had created.

For some, this was a highlight of life. For himself, he found it all exceedingly tedious and boring. Perhaps that was exactly why so many little properties and businesses found their way into Freddie’s possession - like the old house he’d inherited on the edge of the forest - it was the universe playing a little joke on him. Giving him exactly what he didn’t want.

“How big would you like your empire to be?” he asked, a friendly smile spreading across his face. A few businesses, sure, perhaps the whole town eventually? It was such a small town, though. “It’s not a bad idea. I’d start with the grocer, if it was me. People need food, and to be honest, the general store here is rather...”

Lacking wouldn’t be very polite to say.

“Small. It’s a small shop.”

#✰ bishan;dutch's bar

Jax:

CHRISTMAS STARTER FOR FREDDIE ( @ingeniously )

Jax pressed the huge warm plushie Christmas tree to her chest, she didn’t get much else from the Christmas morning get together at the Alby’s. Something she didn’t need, some jewelry she didn’t use - and would probably sell by the end of the year - and a whole lot of shower items. She loved the shower items. The bag at her side was heavy, hitting her leg with every step she took. She tried to readjusted it, her head disappearing behind the plushie for a moment, when the distraction resulted in her bumping into someone. “Sorry!” She said, quickly reaching out to grab the other’s arm with her free hand. “Some of these christmas gifs can be dangerous.” As if on cue, her bag of shower items split and the contents fell to the snowy floor.

.

“Whoa, careful!”

His free hand covered hers where it had latched onto his arm. There was hardly a second to reconcile that someone had just bumped into his person - a feat that much later strike him as strange for the simple fact that this town was small, the population smaller, and the one thing they had in abundance here was room to move around without colliding into anyone, this was not Rio in the middle of Carnival - but there was not a moment to consider any of this before the street was littered with her things.

“Dangerous is one word for it,” he answered, chuckling. He was struck by the sudden thought, a wonder, if that was what Gram might have liked more than the fanciful presents Freddie had given. Something dangerous. He crouched down, and gently picked up a wide, squarish bottle. “Oh, sugar scrub! Do you mind if I - ”

He did not wait for an answer before opening the bottle. He smelled it.

“Hm, apricot. Was your bag new too?”

#✰ jax;around town

valscrapbook

Turn by Elizabeth Glass on Flickr.

#✰ freddie;muse #✰ mancuso house secrets

Gram:

*

The start of the picnic was not going as planned. Freddie also suggested he could sprint away, which would make it all the less successful. Gram exhaled and shook it off to focus on the last preparations instead.

He opened a cooler and surveyed what he had packed for drinks. Champagne and ginger beer on ice, vermouth, bourbon, and a few other things set to the side. Gram spoke as he began with the last minute touches. His eyes darted to the pastries first. “Yes they are strawberry pastries.”

His head shook. “It doesn’t look like anyone lives here.” Too neat, too empty. “At least not now. I found it yesterday. The door was unlocked. I was thinking: we can do an episode on the forest. Maybe this cabin included. Someone has to know something about it, right? Who built it, why it’s here.”

Gram paused to look over at Freddie. “I know everything is classified as ‘weird’ here. But this is weird, isn’t it? And there must be some significance to it. It’s in the painting.” No mistaking the frame, the single window, and the small red door of the cabin to match the image that now hung over Freddie’s fireplace. “I’m trying to get more information on the artist too.”

“I’ve found a few people willing to talk for our series.” In general. Gram hadn’t run by the idea of the forest yet to any of them. Two glasses were placed by the flickering candle. “What do you want to drink?”

.

Any lingering thoughts of criminal activity fled his mind. Frederick strode into the dusty little room, and made himself comfortable near the refreshments. He sprawled out, stretching his legs toward the door. He reached for a pastry. Now this was what this small town had been missing: a casual lounge about with drinks. For what was even the point of a forest, if not to provide a slightly disconcerting backdrop to enjoy baked goods.

Casual might not have been the right word though, he thought, glancing at the candle. His lips turned up ever so slightly at the corners. His attention turned sharply to the pasty to mask any giddy feeling bubbling up in his chest. Strawberry glaze. Messy stuff. It required a careful hand.

“I think...” He paused. Everything was weird here. Perhaps their ability to accurately judge what went beyond normal had been skewed. He fell silent for a moment, thinking it over, and then said, “Well it does stand to reason that someone who lived here once might have taken up painting, and used the woods as a muse. I suppose a loving relative might have seen that picture, and mistakenly put it in the give away pile.”

Rather than the rubbish.

“But after the phone calls, and the explosion, and that bit with the taps... you know I still can’t figure out what happened there, and I made three holes in the wall.”

He pointed to the champagne. That was the one to open first.

“But I agree, an empty cabin in the woods definitely needs to be included in a forest episode. Especially this. You know I’ve heard people have gone missing out here?” Frederick broke off a corner of his pastry. “Who wants to talk on the show?”

©

(c)

Gram:

*

He hadn’t taken more than a few steps away before Freddie stopped him. His head bobbed up and down in a nod. “I’d like to point out that you did willingly come with me to a second location. Never a good idea.”

There was a spot just on the other side of the small cabin. The structure itself had been bare when Gram stashed a few items there. Older, nothing new about it. Empty and unused, except for a fire pit nearby. He grabbed the blanket and picnic basket from the cabin and brought near the pit, which he would definitely need to start a fire soon enough. The wind and cold prevented a few other details he’d wanted to accomplish. But Freddie’s suspicious mind had also taken the whole thing down an unexpected path.

The blanket was spread out, the basket in place. A little kindling in the pit ready for the fire. He lit a candle in the window of the cabin. He called out. “Alright, I’ve checked the area for serial killers. We’re safe. You may as well come over here.” Once Freddie had started towards him, Gram stepped out of the cabin with a gesture towards it. “We found it.” Technically, Gram had found it the day before. “It’s in the painting. Come check it out while I get the fire started.”

.

Never a good idea.

With his eyes still dutifully closed, Frederick shook his head. It was a roundabout way of agreeing. He had technically chosen to come here - willingly, to an extent - not that there had been much of a choice. Where Gram went, he followed, and he’d been thinking for some time that a nice hike through the trees might be enjoyable. Of course, when he’d imagined himself hiking he had pictured himself in the blue coat. Not to mention carrying a couple bottles of wine, and venturing a bit closer to the house.

“I’m sure I could outrun you now as well as I always have.” Some chose to deal with opponents with their fists. From the time he had been in school, he’d always preferred a snappy remark or, worst case scenario, running. The latter usually an inevitable next step after the first.

He listened to the heavy footsteps, and the rustling. He eyes cracked open slightly. Curiosity got the better of him as it so often did. Gram called out, and he traipsed over immediately. The sight of the small cabin - more inviting than the endless expanse of trees - struck him with the same uneasy feeling that plagued him in the thrift shop.

“Damn.”

He let his fingers trail along the door frame.

“It really is, isn’t it? It’s your painting. Who lives here? How did you - ” How had Gram gotten the key to get in, he wanted to say, but something else caught his attention first. “Oh! Are those strawberry pastries?”

#✰ gram;forest

luxurylearry

#✰ freddie;muse

Bishan:

Bishan licked the inside of his teeth and nodded. He could make up a good way to add it to the bill without raising suspicion, he had enough experience with money laundering to understand the delicate workings of the customer service industry. A fine tip it would be.

He chuckled in response, as he dropped the joint in the extended hand. “Well, if you need a hand, I’ve fixed up Dutch’s mostly by myself, with a little help from friends. And that’s knowledge that should not go wasted.” It was a good lie, Dutch’s included the bar itself and some apartments above it that had doubled in value since he had gotten his hands on it. Of course he didn’t live there himself, he made sure the people he housed above a bar were perfectly suitable to spending money in the establishment below to earn some additional income.

The name made him look up. Though he of course couldn’t say for sure that it needed a reaction. Gram was a common name after all. The chances of his brother finding himself in Pleasance seemed impossibly small. “Be sure to get some professional help though, some things shouldn’t be underestimated, like wiring and plumbing.”

.

“Of course,” he said, cheerily. It was not quite a lie. At least, not by intention. Freddie agreed that professionals should absolutely be called in for things one could not do oneself. However, the standard by which he measured his own ability to tinker without a professional was much higher than any certified worker would have signed off on.

“An extra hand is always welcome,” he added, and then, “The bar came out nice.” He glanced over Bishan’s head, up toward the aged building. Of course, he could not see it from here, outside the building, but obviously his memory of three minutes ago still served him well enough. He pulled out a lighter.

“Are you working on anything else currently?”

#✰ bishan;dutch's bar

babinicz

D'Artagnan and Constance

The Musketeers BBC — Death of a Hero | 3.06

#✰ freddie;face

Gram:

Where: The Woods Closed: @ingeniously

“It’s cold.” He grumbled. Chillier than he thought. The wind found a way to burrow under his leather jacket and instill itself in his bones. The residential block they lived on backed up to a forest. Not on the south side but on the east. All they had to do was step outside and there it was.

As they walked, shapes of trees and the splay of leaves on the ground were reminiscent of the painting Gram hung over the mantel. The one from the thrift store that Freddie absolutely did not want.

It was a trial run for sure. Nothing more had been said about the (mostly) unoffensive painting.

He did stop in front of one memorable, stand out tree. Branches reached to the sky and faded into small splinters, spires, and other designs. Gram guided his friend to back up to the large trunk with his hands on his arms. “Close your eyes. Wait here.”

.

“I want you to know...” Freddie squeezed his eyes shut. Almost.

“I am shutting my eyes, but I have just listened to a podcast that advised against this very course of action,” he said. His eyes remained cracked open just enough to see the forest floor, a small sliver of colorful shapes hovering at the bottom of his vision. He reached out, trying to grab hold of Gram to pull him back.

“Someone closed their eyes in anticipation of a lovely surprise, and do you know what happened?” He paused. “Well, I can’t tell you, because spoilers.”

Crime. That was what happened. Not that he thought Gram would commit crime. Scratch that. Rephrase. Not that he thought Gram would commit that particular crime. Freddie’s lips parted as if he were about to say something, but nothing come out. Finally he let his eyes close the rest of the way.

He leaned back against the tree, and then thought better of it. This wasn’t even his coat. He didn’t want to get it all mussed up with bits of bark and who knew what else. Ants. There were probably ants climbing the trees. Or were they seasonal? He tried to remember the last time he’d seen an ant.

“Although, in fairness, it didn’t take place in a forest.”

#✰ gram;forest

Chase:

-

“A true rarity nowadays.” Maybe it was cliche, that statement, but it wasn’t one that Chase had heard in a while. Besides, the man seemed to like he was actually living up to it, even despite the fact that they were in something so general as a store. This place never really brought up any fun, and, if anything, it was simply a chore.

“Only if you promise to make something out of those cans, too. Otherwise, what’s the point of drinks if you’re not consuming to forget something?” Chase countered back, a small smile reappearing on her face. She could use a change, and he sounded like he would definitely be the perfect kind of company for it.

“Home- I mean, I grew up in California.” And lived there for a long, long time; yet it wasn’t a story Chase was willing to think about right now. “My grandparents live here, so my summers were spent here.” Besides, those were the fond memories she was chasing. “I’m going to go right ahead and assume you’re not a local either?”

.

Her smile, however small, brightened the dim aisle. He grinned in return.

“Is it my outfit or general ignorance of canned goods that gave it away?” The latter, he answered silently. His outfit had been meticulously matched together, boots and flannel - some pieces from his own closet, and some borrowed - to resemble the perfect outdoorsy look. Freddie could have been featured on the cover of some camping magazine, in his own humble opinion.

“I inherited a house. Near the Southwood. Bit of a fixer-upper, but I do like a challenge. I also co-host a podcast which is, uh, history-based,” he said, tripping over the word. He and Gram had agreed not to bring up the supernatural stuff right away. “Definitely some interesting history to look into here. Maybe you’d be interested in being interviewed? We’d love to hear about the Pleasance of your youth.”

He paused. Consuming to forget, she’d mentioned. He didn’t usually drink to forget. He drank because - he scratched his chin, thinking for a moment - because it was fun. He liked the feeling. Weightless and carefree. He supposed that was a sort of forgetting, pushing one’s responsibilities off the table to focus only on the present moment.

“In any case, dessert -” he said, waving a can of condensed milk, “ - and drinks. My place. This weekend?”

#✰ chase;general store #✰ open;001

Rhys:

Rhys grinned and nodded. “She gets it from Cincinnati sometimes,” he added.

As if that was supposed to completely explain what kind of coffee it was.

The fancy kind, Jesse would always say.

He chuckled. “Because I’m already too much for some people, if I eat or drink too much sugar… maybe I’ll be even worse.” He opened his eyes a little wider as he said it, as if the idea just hit him.

When the other introduced himself, Rhys threw out a hand for him to shake. “Emrys Hancock,” he said, proudly and quickly. “But everyone calls me Rhys. My dad says my mom was really into Arthurian legend when she had me, which is why I’m named after Merlin. My mom says it’s because her family is part-welsh and she wanted to honour that part of her heritage, plus my dad had the final say with my brother’s name, so I think she just wanted to make him suffer by choosing a very uncommon name.”

He smiled.

“I ramble. That’s without coffee or sugar.”

“Or maybe I did have coffee this morning…”

“I don’t remember.”

.

“Perhaps you’d like another?” he suggested, ignoring the multiple insinuations that this was probably not what the man would like to do. Or should do. Freddie didn’t well understand it. If it were some kind of health measure - his mother had plenty of those - that would be one thing. Rambling, though, didn’t bother him.

“I could go for a tea myself. There must be a shop nearby.” He hoped. This town was much smaller than he was used to, and he often found himself looking for various facilities that simply didn’t exist. Surely there was a coffee shop, though. That was a staple of life.

But would they only have coffee?

“I wish I could say my own name had such a rich history, but in truth... I don’t know. I’ve never thought to ask why my mother why she picked it. What name did your parents give your brother?”

#✰ rhys;general store #✰ open;001

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some things are inevitable