a matter of hands

"the day you were born," his mother says, "i prayed to san juditas," the patron saint of lost causes, "and here you are." (sidebar from Matthieu Garcia Marin)

[jvdesandoval]

text to: open

pitch: i may have...

pitch: gotten my leg caught in a crab trap

jude: who is this

jude: not funny

[jvdesandoval]

natedeckard‌:

If he wasn’t at the dig site, the boarding house, or his hammock, then he found himself at the bar with a cheap beer in hand. It wasn’t by any means the quality he desired, but after a few, one couldn’t tell just how bad the brew was. So far, things hadn’t been all too terrible, though his poor attitude wouldn’t suggest such positivity. He’d stayed to himself with the exception of  an intern and Pitch.

Brows furrowed as the request from the opposite end of the bar was called his way. It wasn’t all that busy on their side of things, but the crowd outside was as wild as one could imagine for a nice Friday night. He was sure his team was enjoying the weather out, some using its niceness for more good than not. “I’m sure there’s plenty of people out there that’d be eager to fuel your thirst,” he replied, skeptical at best.

It was funny how, over time, Jude had come to recognize the accents and mannerisms of Ialis locals; it had something to do with growing up the weird kid in school and trying to figure out how to blend in. And this guy was definitely an outsider - at least, as much as Jude was. He was only a little tempted to hit on him. There was a stronger impulse to get on his nerves, because his frustration had been festering all week. 

“Yeah, but I’m asking you,” he said, slipping into a drawl on asking. Then he shook his head, fogged over by exhaustion and shitty beer. “No pressure, man. Maybe we got off on the wrong foot. Hell, you know what - I should buy you a drink, I’m good for it.” Jude flagged the bartender down once more. “And now we can get a whole bottle,” he told the stranger, “since we’re sharing. You’re welcome.”

[jvdesandoval]

hallecomet‌:

Up till she was around twelve, Halle’s parents would take her on holidays to Norway in August, when Ialis was hot and all the dogs had started to pant. They’d go see her maternal grandmother, an embattled old matriarch with a glint in her eye and an uncanny knack for knowing exactly when somebody was going to knock at the door. Halle’s mother told her that Agnetha was a witch. It was supposed to be a winking joke, but Halle had shared enough looks with her grandmother to sense some truth in her mother’s teasing.

Once, Agnetha had told Halle that she could sense in her granddaughter a sense of strong intuition. Being all of eight years old, Halle had asked her mormor what that meant. Agnetha told her that it meant she could see, and feel, things that others couldn’t. That when she looked at someone, she could feel them. Her grandmother died four years after that, whilst they were still on Ialis. Her parents flew with her to Norway one last time for the funeral, then decided to pack up their beach house and leave the island. Halle’s mother had said that she didn’t want to stay put, to grow old and rattle about in the same house for fifty years. Of course, that was before Halle’s dad got sick, and they returned.

Agnetha’s words echoed in Halle’s head as she took a sideways look at the man behind the wheel. Jude the Obscure. It was perfectly clear that he was deflecting, that he was perhaps regretting picking her up. He was courteous, though, and curious. Halle wanted to figure him out. “For work,” she repeated. It was unusual for anyone to pass through Ialis for work-related reasons, unless you were a fisherman. Halle wondered if he was part of the dig - she’d heard talk of the rival group, the corporate team, the big dogs of archaeology. Big digs? She was tempted to ask, but didn’t want to raise Jude’s hackles. Plus, she liked the mystery. “Sweet. Yeah, I grew up here. Just moved back,” she added, and now it was Halle’s turn to be guarded. “How’re you finding the island?”

Jude was grateful when she didn’t pry; he got along best with people who didn’t ask too many questions, which was why he liked Max. His mother was the only exception, but those questions were easy to answer - have you eaten, are you seeing anyone, are they paying you well, are you getting enough sleep, do you like the people, is it beautiful there - yes or no. Not the probing, open-ended questions from classmates and colleagues that often meant he was being sized up, compared to something or someone. Jude had grown to be good at small talk after a few years of driving around, and he much preferred to stay on that level with acquaintances. 

“Nice,” he echoed, although he wondered where she’d moved from. He figured he’d return the favor of privacy. “I like it, I guess - or I haven’t found anything to dislike. It’s comfortable.” That was mostly thanks to Cambra funding, but there was nothing to make their lodging stand out from any other they’d had on previous jobs. It was the terrain that interested him, that made Ialis unique, the hills and valleys and the coastal settlements. He left the culture and the history stuff to the rest. “I’m not sure I’d want to live here forever - no offense, it’s just not what I’m used to. But you got some nice topography,” he said, matter-of-fact, as they started up the hill. “Any cool spots you’d recommend to a visitor?” 

[jvdesandoval]

zolguin‌:

“you’re kidding!” he crows, peering into the car. something childlike apparent in the way his eyes lit up or the sound of uncontained glee in his voice. he was sixteen when he finally followed his uncle off ialis to a neighbouring island — his first encounter with cars. ever since then zack had a newfound fascination but never found much opportunity on ialis to examine them until the diggers came. “then don’t mind if i do,” he quickly opens the door and slides into the car before jude could change his mind. he had been on his way to the cambra dig site to do some translations for the team anyway.

Jude was a little annoyed, but more amused - their guide always felt so damn young, so naive, for everything he knew about the island. He also talked too much, and it was all too possible that he would blather about the equipment in the backseat to Emma; if only there was a way to distract him. “Hey, you can drive, right? Want to try it out?” He slapped the wheel lightly with his palm and turned to look at Zack. “It’s Cambra’s anyway, and I won’t tell.” 

[jvdesandoval]

jude: simon thinks he saw someone from cambra at the taha dig and in the current state, everyone is eager to point fingers. who really was there that night? GOAL PARTNERS: simon and elena

👈👀👉

[jvdesandoval]

FRIDAY NIGHT, CARIAKI, @natedeckard

Jude beckoned the bartender over for another drink, which wasn’t well-deserved at all. He’d had nothing to celebrate after a week, even after he’d stuck his neck out in defiance of their consensus to only dig with a permit. Emma suspected - or at least, he suspected she suspected. He could’ve been arrested by the local police, and all for naught. High risk, high reward, right? Cheers to that, he thought. 

His colleagues were out elsewhere, probably team bonding or pep-talking or whatever they did when he disappeared, so he could drink himself to a self-loathing death without witnesses. It was a warm night, nice enough that most of the crowd was clustered around the large outdoor tables, and Jude was cloaked in the stillness of the near-empty bar. Until he made eye contact, briefly, with someone a few stools down from him. “Want to buy me a drink?” he asked mildly.

[jvdesandoval]

what's your favourite western song? alternatively, a song you think doesn't deserve much appreciation as you think it should.

jude’s music taste is mostly the slower stuff by dolly parton/tammy wynette/patsy cline, and the ranchera songs his mother used to play all the time. probably paloma negra, especially sung by lila downs.

[jvdesandoval]

if your life was a musical what would be the title of 3 of the songs

1. just a boy who went to MIT (but it’s not a big deal or anything)

2. cambra all in this together reprise

3. j.u.d.e. (stands for jiggy ultra delicious engineer)

[jvdesandoval]

who would you eat if you were trapped on ialis with no food source

nate

[jvdesandoval]

hallecomet‌:

she was on her way to the town hall, the administrative hub of ialis. no more interesting than it sounded, full of dull brown doors and plastic chairs and a clean blue light which made the air-conditioned rooms even more cold. the constant buzz of the electrics and the busy bureaucracy of it all made halle think of a beehive. 

still, she’d trekked there enough times in the past few days to come to appreciate its charms, too. the first receptionist of three that halle would usually deal with liked the colour yellow, and often wore a lemon cardigan embroidered with a tiny curled-up cat. the second receptionist always looked sleepy, and was usually engaged with a small portable television she kept beneath the counter. from the canned laughter and distinctive music, halle recognised a popular greek soap opera. the third receptionist, who had been assigned to processing the taha dig, did not like halle. wishy-washy, she would mutter in ialic beneath her breath. she takes us or leaves us. outsider.

it was with this third receptionist that halle would be dealing with today, making her short hike from the beach a sombre one. alone with her thoughts, halle wandered along the main road, returning the sympathetic smiles of the passers-by who liked her family and avoiding the cold eyes of those who didn’t trust them. 

the sound of a revving motor slowing beside her caught her attention. halle watched the window of the hired car roll down, assuming she’d be asked for directions, but raised her eyebrows upon recognising the driver. a handsome guy, she’d seen him taking photographs of the island once or twice. at first she’d pinned him as a tourist, but she wasn’t sure. at the offer of a ride, halle paused. she’d spent enough time wandering across europe to mistrust lone men in cars, but this guy didn’t have those vibes, she sensed. this guy seemed distracted, as if picking her up was completely inconsequential to his day. 

so halle reached out one bracelet-laden arm to open the passenger-side door, ducking her head in and saying, “thanks, dude, i appreciate it. i’m heading a little further up the hill, just past the plaza.” a pause, before making sure to look him in the eyes. “i’m halle. you’re new in town, right?”

Definitely a familiar face, although he couldn’t say he knew where they’d met - if at all. She had the sort of face one could place anywhere and nowhere at all. Jude made eye contact in the mirror and felt oddly vulnerable; then again, it was par for the course when he’d used to drive weird college kids around Boston. They had good stories, because they were youthful in a way Jude had never quite experienced. “Nice to meet you,” he muttered, unsure if he meant it, and merged into the left lane easily. “Yeah, that’s on my way.” 

Jude was about to turn the radio on - again, driver mode to deal with the awkward car silence - when Halle spoke. “You could say that,” he replied. For the moment, his mind had drifted from the equipment in the back that really wasn’t supposed to be there. He hadn’t made much of an effort to get to know the locals of the island; it seemed like more trouble than it was worth to engage with people who either didn’t know anything about archeology, or hated archeologists for stealing their stuff. Jude wasn’t here to take sides. It was easier to play it safe and avoid talking about his job at all. “I’m, uh, just passing through, I guess. For work. You live here? It’s quite a trek up that hill.”

[jvdesandoval]

rcsettastone‌:

she smiles in her closed-lipped, noncommittal manner that was not unlike a comma – not particularly for its shape, but for its ability to move things onto the next clause. eléna was adept at the transferral of things – topics of conversation, cards between her fingers, priceless artifacts moving from her hand to that of her sponsor’s. 

“si, sí,” she urges her wellness with two slow dips of her chin, watching locals barter over baskets of bright things. “i appreciate the island, but i dislike idleness. i’ll be happy when the permits come through.” bemused, eléna turns to jude as he offers the bottle, removing her hand from the water to make a mutedly playful gesture of flicking her fingers at him. “and for you –” she watches as the water droplets harmlessly discolour his shirt before taking a sip. “gracias.”

looking again out into the main square, eléna nods at his assessment. there is the latent curiousity as to whether any members of taha’s team have passed by, and as she returns his water, she asks with her gaze fixed in the distance: “and you? how do you feel about andros taha’s crew, jude?”

Ah, the big ‘P’ word. Jude is used to things happening with ruthless efficiency. The only thing he has patience for is developing film; he likes that it forces him to slow down, to wait. It unmoors him, if only briefly. But permits - those are things he doesn’t see the need to wait for. He doesn’t voice this, only hums in agreement with Eléna. He flinches when she makes to splash him, and is equally quick to mask his embarrassment at overreacting. It certainly distracts him from her vague reply. 

"I don’t feel anything about them,” he replies, a little smug. And he doesn’t. They’re annoying, sure - they’ve claimed a dig site that could have been Cambra’s, and the locals are less welcoming to two groups of noisy outsiders. Apart from that, Jude can’t imagine why they would make a difference, and he hasn’t bothered to get to know them. “We’ve had competitors before, right?” The sun is beginning to sink and the square has filled up with people passing through; they draw a few curious stares, but nothing more. “Don’t tell me they’ve scared you,” he says, probing a little. “Although I’m sure they aren’t above that kind of thing.” 

[jvdesandoval]

remyparker‌:

“ i won’t say no to one if you’re offering, ” says remy. their hands are over their eyes, blocking the sun, and they are squinting as they look into jude’s car. they open the door and get into the car, putting their backpack at their feet, before closing the door then fastening their seat belt. they let their head rest against the headrest before turning to look towards jude. 

“ hey jude, ” they trill the familiar tune before laughing quietly, their shoulders shaking. “ i appreciate this. not that i couldn’t have walked. it’s not far. or too hot today. but who am i to say no to a free ride ? especially from my favorite pocket man. what’ve you got in their today ? pokeballs ? pocket watch ? stolen illegal goods that you plan to fence on the black market ? ”

Fuck, he really should’ve looked closer. If he’d realised it was Remy he would definitely have left them to make their own way, but as it is it’d be too suspicious to kick them out of the car. It’s technically company property, anyway. Some re-calculations: if he can drop Remy off at the dig, somehow persuade them that he left something important at the hotel, drive back - and make some kind of plea to a higher power that Remy won’t tell Emma - it’ll be fine. 

Jude sighs as he pulls out of the parking lot. “You’re welcome, and none of your business. Like I said the first three times you asked, the pockets are very helpful.” He frowns when they mention illegal and makes deliberate eye contact with them in the mirror. “Just, uh, land surveying equipment. You wouldn’t get it.” He looks away and turns the radio on; it’s Top 40, which he hates, but it’ll do. He briefly turns the volume down to add, “Anyone ever tell you you ask too many questions?” 

[michaeltrevinosource]

[jvdesandoval]

unscrollingavi‌:

“Oh, it’s not for a souven—” Avi was caught off guard when the photo was placed in his hands. “Did you take this?” he asked. “I have a Canon AE1 myself, but nowhere to develop anything just yet…” The words, mumbled lazily, trailed off while he studied the photograph. 

“God, no, that won’t see the light of day outside of research,” he snorted. The photographed was tucked between the pages of the well-loved notebook, just behind the sketch. Were it not for the limited amount of film, he wouldn’t have had to resort to the pencil. “I’m hoping I can figure where this thing came from. I asked a couple of locals about it but they weren’t too keen on answering my questions.”

“Nice, I have a —“ he stopped short and took a moment to consider the stranger. He’d meant to tell him about the tiny darkroom he’d set up at Cambra’s offices, but he wasn’t planning to open his precious space up. Especially since Eléna had talked him into sharing it. “I have an FM2.” Jude pulled it out of the pouch at his hip. It’s not showing off, he thinks, just a demonstration. “Yeah, I took it last week, but I’m trying to ration my film. The light is great here. In the late afternoon the sun hits the volcano from behind, and if you’re on this side of the island - closer to the harbour, though - it looks incredible. I’m trying to work with black and white more, the colors here show up really well.” He stopped short, aware that he was rambling. “Uh, yeah.”

A researcher, not a tourist. Jude made some mental recalibrations, and tried to peek into his notebook surreptitiously. The stranger was now slightly more suspicious. “I guess they don’t take kindly to newcomers asking too many questions,” he noted. “So you research... sculpture? Art? I’d like to know the deal with this fountain myself.”

[wellbutrinboy]

me: i just want to be included!

me, after being included: what the hell and fuck

[jvdesandoval]

least to most likely to sleep with on the dig list: taha and cambra!

you’re all nasty

[jvdesandoval]

sorry i did it most to least but i can’t be bothered to redo it

yakov (i’m sorry but it’s true) zack (is prob too young but tbh would be jude’s type) eléna (felices los dos ;-)) max (two bros...) avi (he’s a spiritual dude when he wants to be) ronnie (ditto zack) irina  nate simon pitch (that’s emma’s business) sang (still a snake in jude’s eyes) makara emma (see pitch) remy (cause she bullies him)

[jamiehq]

location: outside a local pub. OPEN

DIGGING WITHOUT PERMITS. max didn’t hate his job. not really, it paid well and provided a roof over his head. he traveled, he saw things, saw everything, but sometimes he felt he didn’t know what he was doing. working for the old man had never been like this, so cut throat, so serious. sometimes he felt like he was suffocating. he was supposed to be frequenting the bars less and less, supposed to be finding something to be passionate about, but he saw little point. he didn’t know what he was doing. not like the others. beer bottle in hand, he kicked at a few rocks littered outside the pub, ready to make his way back to the camp site, when he recognized another archeologist. he raised his brows in greeting, holding up the beer as if to cheers.  ❝ didn’t know anyone else ever took a break. you lost or just less lame than i thought? ❞

[jvdesandoval]

He had his own bottle in hand, and he’d already guessed where Max would be when the work day ended. It had been a long day for both of them, he figured, but Max wasn’t always easy to read. “You know the answer to that,” he said, and clinked. “I have my usual spot over there if you want to join me.” He gestured with the bottle to a table outside the bar, spilling a little on the ground (and possibly on Max). “You good? It’s too early to be going stir-crazy on the island.”