spreading the good news;

Aidan Marama Liebermann | Irish Maori | teacher | journalist | [a non-profit roleplay account. contents within this page are purely fictional.]

[liebeaidan]

LOCATION: Bean & Co., Port Elisabeth WITH: @jcstrauss​

As he finally reached the cafe, Aidan looked at his phone. Just like he thought -- he was slightly late, and he absolutely hated that. This meeting with Jordyn was scheduled rather unexpectedly, and cramming it in between all the plans he had was quite difficult. Any other day he would have postponed it, and his friend would’ve understood it, but this time everything was different. They hadn’t seen each other for two weeks, she needed to get her notebook back and, most importantly, there was this awkward feeling, lingering in the air. And they reached a point when they had to end it.

Aidan knew that it was vital to talk with her -- it was the only way to get rid of these tiring thoughts, haunting him at night. He was also sure that whatever it was that happened between them was a mistake that shouldn’t have been made. He had to get his friend back -- he missed their conversations, laughs and drinks at a bar. Even if after a couple of those one night their relationship became a messy, uncomfortable disaster. 

Taking a deep breath, he finally opened the door and looked around. Jordyn was nowhere to be seen, and it made him feel even more tense. He took a seat at the table next to a window, just so she could find him easier, decided to wait for her to make an order, and pulled the newest issue of ‘The New Yorker’ out of his backpack to pass the time. 

A soft voice snapped him back to reality, though. Aidan closed the magazine, looked up with a smile and stood up to pull Jordyn into a quick hug. How else could he greet her? “Hello, glad to see you,” the man nodded and went back to his seat, showing her with his head that she should join him. “So… Long time no see, eh? How have you been?”

[liebeaidan]

darcydalton·:

WHERE: a hardware shop in Myrtle Rock WHO: anyone @elisabethstarters·

Darcy didn’t mean to hold up the line at the shop, but when a fairly short woman tries to lug around planks of wood and a cart full of various hardware supplies, things tend to get…complicated. Spotting someone familiar, she flashes them a guilty smile. “I’m sure you have questions, and the answer to all of them is that I’m a fantastic mother who is building a ‘cat palace’ for Teaspoon,” she explains, unprompted. They could’ve just gone to Ikea, they could’ve just bought the one from PetSmart, but no. Quinn insisted that they build the spoiled cat’s palace from scratch. And of course, none of her lovely children could be bothered to accompany Darcy to the store - they were 'busy’. So there she was, trying not to whack someone in the face with a 2x4 as she waited for the cashier to bag up her things.

The hardware shop wasn’t a place you’d expect to see Aidan. It wasn’t that he didn’t like doing things around the house -- in fact, he was quite handy and found it rather relaxing. However, Aidan simply never seemed to have enough time for it. When he had any kind of a problem, he’d call a repairman. That’s it. But he couldn’t ask someone to hang his fallen shelf, could he? That would be foolish. So there he was, standing in line with two boxes of nails and a hammer, when a familiar voice woke him up from a daydream. “A cat palace? That seems fun. If the cat is royal, does it also have servants? Who would they be?” he raised an eyebrow and chuckled. Aidan needed a moment to remember when and where he has seen this face. And then it hit him -- she was Darcy, Quinn’s mother. A smart child -- one of the brightest students in the class. “Do you need any help? You’ve got a lot of stuff here.”

[liebeaidan]

jack-rowe·:

@elisabethstarters·

Sometimes Jack felt like nothing had even changed, since he’d stopped work on the boats with his father. Specifically, the times when his dad was too busy day drinking to go to the market, and sent Jack instead. Honestly, he almost couldn’t fault the old man, he sure as hell would rather be at the bar then here. 

Here being the side of the road on the way back to Fremont, staring under the hood of his truck, pretending like he knew jack shit about engines. At first, he’d figure maybe his memory would be jogged when he popped the hood, but it was a totally blank slate. And there was no way in hell he was going to call his dad for help. Instead, he took a deep breath, trying to swallow whatever embarrassment he knew he’d feel, and attempted to wave down a passing car. 

Aidan rarely stopped to anyone flagging down cars, but, taking a better look, he realised that it was Jack who was standing on the side of the road, next to his vehicle. He didn’t need more to make a decision -- he began slowing down and eventually stopped in front of Jack’s truck. “What’s up, man?” he asked as he was stepping out of his car. He didn’t know much about cars, but he could at least try to help. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time when he’s lending a hand to him, and he’d never leave this boy in trouble. “Okay, let’s see...” Aidan looked under the hood, scratching his head. He knew a couple of basic things, but it didn’t seem like it was a simple problem. “Shit. I’ll have to be honest. I have no fuckin’ idea what’s wrong with it.” 

[liebeaidan]

Location: Odessa’s doorstep/house With: @odessa-markov​

Typing, deleting, typing, deleting, typing… His sight was already blurry, mind – almost numb. The black letters were turning into a messy disaster, ruining the bright, virtual sheet. Aidan rubbed his eyes, finally taking them away from the laptop screen. It was half past ten. By his standards, it was quite early. But he was already tired. Exhausted. He knew he shouldn’t have spent his entire day putting together little pieces of this vague puzzle – which was supposed to be another investigative article of his – since there were more important things waiting for his touch and dedication. But Aidan couldn’t stop himself. It was a great distraction, and it was all he needed.

Aidan sighed, finally stood up and stretched. No, he needed a cigarette -- that’s what he actually was desperate for. He grabbed a pack that was neatly put on his desk and quickly went outside, closing the door behind him. The sweet and tranquil night had to make up for a busy day he had, he was nearly certain about it. 

The thick, grey smoke swirled through the air, climbing high, up to the sky and circling its way towards the clouds. How magnificent it must be, he thought, to be that free. To not have the constant weight of guilt, angst, duty and remorse on your shoulders. Aidan took a final drag from the cigarette before finally dropping it into a makeshift ashtray made out of a tin can and placed close to his door. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” Aidan mumbled under his breath as his hands were erratically going through the pockets of his jacket. He locked himself out -- for the very first time in his life -- and it seemed like his peaceful night was ruined. Again. He knew that Odessa must have a spare key but she wasn’t at home -- there was no light in her windows. “Oh, and no fuckin’ phone as well. Good job,” he cursed again and sat down on the stairs, thinking of his options.

Aidan wasn’t religious, but if there actually was a higher power, it decided to save him that night. He heard footsteps coming closer and closer, and there she was -- Odessa, standing in front of him. “Christ, hi. Hello. You won’t believe what happened. I just...” he quickly stood up to tell his story, but he shut his mouth even faster as he looked at her. He smelled that something was wrong and he didn’t need to be a detective to notice that -- Aidan could see that her eyes were brighter than usual. Teary. “Dess? What happened?” 

[movie-gifs]

Dead Poets Society (1989) dir. Peter Weir

[fuckyeahworldoftaika]

[liebeaidan]

fuckyeahworldoftaika​:

@emilyshur: Congratulations to the rare gem that is @taikawaititi on a well deserved #oscar win last night! Here are some celebratory #outtakes from a 2017 shoot for @nytmag. Generally speaking, when the circumstances of a shoot involve having one hour with a subject on a studio backlot during a break from editing their huge superhero film that’s about to come out, I don’t go in with the highest of expectations. However, it’s always amazingly refreshing to be proved wrong by someone who is super engaged, present, kind, funny and weird. Cheers to being interesting and making interesting films!