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TÓMAS 'TOMMY' MANUEL LOPEZ
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@ofbloodandsnow
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GENERAL
asks: open starters: open current starters: TOMMY
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musing
TÓMAS 'TOMMY' MANUEL LOPEZ
intro || musing || visage || tasks
Left in a neatly but simply wrapped box, tied with string, on Tommy’s doorstep.
¡Feliz cumpleaños! This reminded me of you. A bee may be a bee, but an artist must place it just so. Visit sometime. The roof leak has required me to repaint a wall of the barn. Why not a mural?
I. Mendoza
Ignacio gave a shake of his head. "I am not always right. Always truthful, yes, but there is a difference." A laugh came at that, a warm, hearty noise that lit up his face. "Down to learn! Ach! Tomás! Am I to put you on a ladder in hopes you figure out roofs between rungs? Come now." He wrinkled up his nose. "Yet, I do believe perhaps you could. Admiro mucho tu perseverancia." He gave a smile.
Ignacio let out a soft hum. "Do you know...certain witches can speak to them? Kyle Kane destroyed Lunar Cove's ecosystems, turning the insects away from their instincts. If I can...correct the way of things, I shall have accomplished something in this lifetime." His voice trailed off, his expression growing somewhat pensive. If he could say anything kind about that rogue witch, it was that he did not seem to fear insects in the way so many did. But people fear things they do not understand, Ignacio knew. That was why they all dwelled in this place, even if Lunar Cove itself was not above such vices.
With something of a grunt, then, Ignacio lifted the barbell, completing his reps with focused precision and well-practiced form. Finishing the set, he allowed Tommy to help him rerack the bar before sitting up. "Thank you." He fell silent a moment before standing up and stretching his arms over his head. "Do you want to have a turn now?" He regarded Tommy with a furrowed brow. "I know it is not fair of me to ask, but after...." He pursed up his lips. "¿Quieres almorzar conmigo?" Do you want to have lunch with me? "I would like to catch up. Sincerely."
"That's how I do it. Plus, let's be real, if I fell," too late, "you'd catch me." Smiling at the compliment, they countered, "you rubbed off on me." Tommy had a painful tendency to run from the important things but persist with the useless. They had run from the truth their whole life, when it came to their fiancée, their dads, themself. Even now, they were only speaking half of the truth.
Nodding, they replied, "I've heard of it but I've never personally met anyone who could." Ignacio's next words brought Tommy to a momentary silence. What had they accomplished in their lifetime? A failed engagement and a barely existent art career.
Mentally shaking themself off, they focused on Ignacio, avoiding the urge to drool by instead zeroing in on the bar, just the bar, definitely not his arms, or the way his hands were wrapped around the bar so tight his knuckles went white, or the sound he made when- Focus-! Helping him rerack with a thunk, they let out the breath they hadn't known they'd been holding. "Yeah, all good."
Subtly watching the long lines of his body as he stretched, they nodded. "Sure." Positions reversed, they settled themself on to the bench, his next question catching them off-guard. "I'd like that." More than you know.
"Are you a nutritionist?" Ronnie teased, giving them a grin. "You've put a lot of thought into this, huh? I'm gonna be so real with you: I kind of treat it like eating food. Like, okay, it might be a little wrong, but I don't know where most of my food is coming from, and I absolutely don't know what a Cheeto is made out of. I just sort of like the taste. That's how I treat blood. I know that some people taste better. Their blood smells better, too. But," she shrugged. "I dunno." If she thought about it too hard, it made her a little nauseated, honestly. Like, she needed blood. She wanted blood, desperately. But she had to keep reminding herself that people were people, not just food sources.
"Nah, I teach kids. I just think a lot, usually about stuff that'll never be relevant in real life but I guess that's what makes it fun." He listened to her explanation, nodding along. It made sense. Different species ate different things but no one, of any species, wants to eat food that smells bad. People like stuff that smells good. Like chocolate. "I totally get what you mean. Food's not just one sense, it's all of 'em, taste, texture, scent, the whole crew."
Despite the main topic being blood, they were still talking about food, the thought of chocolate still dancing away in his mind. "I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to still be here but, since no one's kicked me out yet, is there like a vending machine or something I can raid?" Did fancy country clubs even have vending machines? They should.
Ignacio gave a gentle shake of his head, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "Enough? Hmm. No, no. We are still here, yes. So, we must take it and do all we can to make here better. That will be enough." The pixie gave a sigh. "Ah, it's in the barn. It will be drafty, leak or not. Hace frío." It's cold. He nodded. "Do you know very much of roofs? Ach! The bees take care of themselves. I do so very little. Nature has worked for many years without me. I simply show up sometimes to help." He clicked his tongue.
Ignacio laughed. "No order? It is the artist in you. A free spirit. But here? You must have order. Think of the bees, hm? Every single one has a duty. No time to waste." He smiled brightly.
Giving a nod, though, Ignacio began preparing the bar, adding weight and perhaps trying to pick an impressive weight. "You got my back, yes?" He teased, settling on the bench and lying backward.
Sometimes Tommy forgot just how old a soul Ignacio was. 27 years in this life, with centuries stretching behind him. "You're right, as always." Weirdly, he was the only one they didn't mind losing an argument to.
"I don't but I'm always down to learn." That was their general approach to things they didn't quite understand, try anyway, screw up and then fix it. Sometimes though, things break even if you don't screw up and you still can't fix them. Things like that, they had a tough time letting go of.
Two years of training before a four year degree and still he insists he 'does so very little'. When others wouldn't dream of doing what he does, some running away at the sight of the little pollinators. "And I'm sure the bees appreciate everything you do for them." The bee comparison got them thinking. He was right, bees really do have their shit sorted. They know everything there is that they need to know, with no worries or problems, just their tasks. Being a bee sounded really good. The hot beekeeper was not a downside either.
Standing behind the set, Tommy smiled down at Ignacio, the familiar position shaking awake the jar of butterflies that lived in their stomach. "Always."
Ronnie snorted. "Yeah, maybe. You could get used to it. Hell, I think a bunch of people like the way it makes then feel. It, like, makes a bunch of people feel high." She laughed. "If there isn't a loyalty program, there totally should be. We should have a suggestion box around here purely for that." It'd be kind of funny, honestly, seeing who cashed in their clan loyalty rewards for a free t-shirt.
"You know... I've never really thought about it like that," Ronnie said, her head tilted to the side. "I mean, like, some blood definitely tastes better to me, but I've never really questioned if it was a species thing or a blood type thing or just varied from person to person."
"My opinion? Maybe it's all three. Species, subsequent blood type and then them as an individual. If you think about it, everything a person does individually affects their body and blood. Exercise, diet, mental health, they all affect your heart and hormones - that's all gonna affect your blood and no two people are gonna have exactly the same amount of all that. So that'll change things up, right?" He probably said it more long-windedly than needed but it made sense. At least, it did to him. "Or maybe it depends on the vampire's tastebuds? I don't know. Maybe it's all of the above."
"I think you could totally rock it," Ronnie agreed. "It'd be super cute with your curls."
She nodded. "Yeah, it's pretty-- It's pretty weird. Like, so fucking different than giving it, I'm sure. And it's also weird... getting it? Like, from the bag is one thing, right? Kind of weird, but still, just mix it in something or heat it up. But, like, from a person. That's super weird. I mean, I still think it's weird." It also tasted better, even if it stirred up some of those repressed memories. It was better when it was someone she knew. She felt more in control. Not like she was still freshly turned and a monster, or like when she'd had her empathy taken away and she was a monster. "Weird's a good word for it, to me."
Honestly, he was just glad he wasn't alone in his feelings. "Who knows, maybe it'll be less weird the next time. If there's a next time.", he added. To be fair to him, Tommy didn't really know what he'd be doing from one day to the next, sans class work. "D'you think there's like a loyalty programme for it or something? Get bit ten times and get a free t-shirt, that kinda thing."
A random thought occurred to him. Possibly a stupid one. "Do we taste different to you? As in, like, werewolf blood compared to a human's?"
Ignacio stuck out a hand to grip their shoulder in a sharp, bracing motion. "Are you good? So very much has happened once again in Lunar Cove, and I am...blessed that we are both still standing here," he replied with a nod before dropping his arm to his side. A shrug rolled through his shoulders. "The bees know no better. But me? My roof is leaking. Do not worry. I am allowed to climb up on ladders alone. I have wings, hm?" Another smile tugged at his lips.
He had enjoyed the time they had spent together, but Ignacio had made the foolish mistake of looking for time during the section of the year during which he had so little to spare. Hives required tending, and it would only break both their hearts if he allowed their brief affair to blossom into too pretty a flower that he would later have to snip.
"You sound unsure," Ignacio joked, raising an eyebrow. "Come on." Walking across the gym, to the portion where some of the equipment was set up away from the boxing areas, Ignacio patted a bench. "Do you want to go first?"
So very much. The understatement of the century. "Like you said, we're still here and that's enough." It had to be enough. Not all were still there though. Kitty... It had to be enough.
At the mention of a leak, Tommy frowned. "Wings aside, you can still get sick. Admittedly, not as easily as most but still. Are you sure you don't want any help, patching her up? After all, who'll take care of your bees if you're sick?"
Unsure was definitely the word for it. "I usually just dance between things - I don't really have an order anymore." Before, when they would exercise at home, they would always stick with circuits. Short intense bursts of energy followed by a brief moment to catch his breath before another intense burst, and so on and so forth, all the while, switching between activities after every burst. It didn't really work for him in a gym setting.
"Please, after you." That was their incredibly clever way of disguising their utter inability to exercise with other people. Spotting, they could handle but this… this they would still try but it would be very awkward. At least this way, they had an example to follow.
Nodding along as Tommy spoke, JC listened in silence, features placid but grave. The answer was not one he had not heard before, of course, but still, the experience was a somewhat alien one to him. While he had led a perfectly straightforward human life throughout his own young adulthood, he had also somehow longed for the wolf in him to emerge. He did not develop his mother's magic as a teenager.
"I hear you. But are any of us...normal? Even without all the supernatural town, this place is a particular kind of small town strange, don't you think?" A weak smile came, trying to lighten a joke that perhaps rang too seriously for humor. "For what it's worth, though...packing up is a biological process. I'm not discounting anything you're saying, but...we simply cannot link with humans or witches or vampires the way we can with other wolves. That's all. We're all very different in outside life. But we share biological functions." While their shared species united them, some wolves were not really 'friends' outside the Den. And he, in truth, did not think choosing relations based on proximity or similarity was even a wolf thing; everyone did that, even humans.
Still, JC nodded. "You're not the first to say that. I guess I don't even notice it anymore. It just is." He shrugged. "There's no pressure. I appreciate you sharing. Really, I do. Thank you. I think our marketing is outdated. Do you have any thoughts for sprucing it up? You're an artist. What speaks to the new wolf in Lunar Cove?"
"Normal's relative and, especially in this town, we could use all the normal we could get." Not there was much of that going around. It just didn't seem fair, that the world refused to give them a break. Once upon a time, there were communities all over the world for people who weren't human. Now, for those not born in the not-so-safe haven that was Lunar Cove, when you find out you're different, your only options are to hide forever or uproot your entire life and haul ass across its border. It was just a shitty predicament.
Humming in semi-agreement, they mused over his words. They understood his points, that being the same type of different linked them in a way other people couldn't be a part of, even if they wanted to, but that didn't mean that Tommy wanted it. Even the term 'biological process' made them feel strange. A link like that had to make their losses cut even deeper. Given how much Tommy was hurting from the loss of Kitty, after barely having known her, they couldn't imagine what it felt like for her packmates, losing someone they were literally connected to.
At his mention of marketing, he smiled lopsidedly, suggesting, "maybe we can go old-school, put Nico in a white mustache and top hat. Your pack needs you, that kinda thing."
"I mean, I was just gonna say that, like, if you were sharing traits with Carmilla Karnstein, maybe, like, being a sexy noble was one of those things," Ronnie said, shrugging slightly. "I don't really know the difference between, like, a Transylvanian and a Austrian accent, if I'm being so real with you. Totally doubt Hollywood folks did either in the fifties or whatever. I think they just sort of said, 'generic, Eastern European,' and then they sort of went with it. Maybe."
She kind of leaned up to look at them some more, an eyebrow raised. "I mean, I don't think anyone would blame you for chickening out of blood donation, especially if you're, you know. Letting someone bite you." She could sort of get the whole not wanting to chicken out thing, but still. She personally didn't know if she'd be able to let someone bite her, if that was the way he'd donated.
"Probably right. Still, nobility or not, I'd look great in a tiara." Did nobles even wear tiaras anymore? Probably not.
"I used to give blood all the time so it's no biggie about giving it, like, via IV or whatever. So I figured, hey, why not try it the other way this time? So I did. And it was weird. Like not bad but not good, just kinda… weird.", he finished lamely. "But who knows? Maybe that's normal."
Closed starter for @ofbloodandsnow Location: Drop it Like a Squat
During the off-season, Ignacio rose with the sun to get in a workout or a jog before chores. Today had gone differently, however. Lucky as he typically was, the series of snowstorms over the past few weeks had worn a hole in the barn roof. And when a patch of it finally broke through today to soak a corner of the floor, he had started his morning with a simple repair, at least until he could hire a proper fixer.
To that end, he was at the gym later than usual, hammering his fists into a dangling boxing bag with well-practiced precision. It was more crowded than he typically liked, in a way that almost made him hyper-conscious of taking more than his fair share of room. Finishing a flurry of hits, then, he stepped away and wiped at his brow.
"Apologies. I do not mean to monopolize the...oh! Tomás. How are you doing? You are well, I hope?" He smiled, genuinely. Their fling had been short-lived, amicable in his mind. And Ignacio was glad to see the other out and about. "Did you want to use the bag? I am all done, I think. May go lift. Do you need a spotter?"
Their work schedule, paired with their hobbies, kept Tommy painfully busy, so much so that they had had to change their gym schedule again. But after looking around at how busy it was, they were considering yet another change. Or not.
They spotted a very familiar figure, attacking a punching bag with deadly focus. If they didn't already know him, they'd almost find him intimidating. Don't get them wrong, he was still a force to be reckoned with but he was just so... sweet. Sweeter than honey.
"Hey, Ignacio." His bright smile was almost overwhelming, pulling a smile out of them, in spite of their building fatigue. They knew the gym was good for them but, good God, at what cost? "I'm good, yeah. How about you? All good in the honey world?" Their brief fling, who even knows how long ago, had been the bright spot in an otherwise shitty year. They hadn't realised just how much they had missed the man's company. Strange how much you could miss something that was never even really yours.
"Lifting? Yeah, sure, I could lift." They had no idea how gym sessions were supposed to work. People would talk about leg day and arm day and the like but Tommy would just walk in, look around and pick something to do. They'd build up a sweat, lift weights to see how far they could get and punch a bag to de-stress. That counted.
Suresh pursed up his lips. "Well, no, they want to kill me the bloody most, I suppose. That's why there are so very few of my kind left." As was typical, he would succeed in turning everything into a competition out of which he could emerge the victor. "Well, you should believe me, mate. I cannot lie. One of the pitfalls...amid very many strengths." He gave a low hum. "You're very cute."
Suresh allowed his eyes to flick up and down. "I don't mean earthen like the pottery. I mean it as in...you're all unafraid of getting a little dirt on your paws, aren't you?" He sniffed. "Head in the clouds is one way to put it, but I do fear that label applies to many people in this town. I don't know how I manage at all." He sighed, features furrowing in displeasure.
"Well, between you and me, groups can be bloody troublesome." He himself was fighting regularly with most members of the Fae Court, but at least he got a hotel suite out of it all. "You strike me as a free-spirited person. Head in the clouds. Do what you want, and fuck everyone else." He scoffed. "Only time will tell? Wot? Like it'll just happen on its own one day. No. Make a decision and stick with it. Reclaim your existence. I give you full authority."
"Oh, no, I just meant that infighting won't change the way hunters feel or act when it comes to us. It just screws us over in the long run." He was right about the hunters and the Fae, though. Just the thought of what they would do to them, the killing and the trophies- it made Tommy sick to their stomach.
Something that was quite easy to remember about Fae was that particular trait. The thing about not being able to lie was that it gave them very quick tongues. Just because one cannot lie does not mean they can't twist the truth. It was one of the things that made them so dangerous. They couldn't help but find it attractive. The redness of their ears quickly spread to their cheeks at the compliment. A simple sentence and yet knowing that he actually meant it brought a small smile to his lips. "Thanks. I'd say likewise but just 'cute' doesn't do you justice."
"Oh, yeah. I mean, in this town, you gotta get your hands dirty. How else are you supposed escape all the insane shit that goes on around here?"
Guilty as it made them feel, 'do what you want and fuck everyone else' really did sound like a good life motto. "I'm not gonna screw myself over for someone else's sake, if that's what you mean. And as far as groups go, I have made my decision. I just don't know how to tell my family about it." Though it sounded condescending, it was a comfort to hear someone say that. I give you full authority. "I'm not joining the Pack. I love my family but I'm not gonna join just because everyone's telling me to." That was the first time he'd said it out loud. No maybes, or eventually. Just a solid, definitive no. It felt amazing. Reclaim your existence. Huh.
"Not the....?" She trailed off, waiting for them to finish, but she was smiling slightly. "I mean, sure, two out of three totally counts. Tell me, are you a countess that's like, apparently smoking hot, too?"
"You're so very velcome. Mwahaha," she said, laying on that thick, classically vampiric accent. "I hear the first time's, like, a thing. It's kind of weird from the other side, if that helps. I mean, for me." It was way different than eating food. "What made you to decide to do the whole... thing?"
He had no idea where the hot countess had come from so he just answered honestly, shaking his head. "No, I mean I've been called smoking hot before but not countess. Why, are you a countess?"
A surprisingly good Transylvanian accent. "Accent's got me thinking, why do people go for Transylvania for the classic vampire stuff? Like, I get Dracula and everything, but Carmilla's older and she was from Austria anyway. Then there's vrykolakas from Greece and they were from earliest, like, mid 1600s? That was like 200 years before Dracula was even a thing. I don't know, I just find it weird."
"That actually does help, thanks. Honestly, I just forgot you don't get paid to give blood in this state and then I figured, why not, y'know? Someone's gotta do it, it isn't gonna kill me, so why not? Plus, my new year's resolution was to try more things instead of chickening out, so I tried it."
JC gave a nod, settling easily down into the chair. "Thanks. I'm...uh, sorry if I interrupted your work," he added, cocking his head toward the sketchbook. Falling silent for a moment, Júlio César seemed to try to compose his words before speaking them, resting his hands on the tabletop.
"Please don't take this the wrong way. I know how it sounds, but it's not...it's not a loaded question. I'm just trying to get a better idea of...why wolves would choose not to be in the pack. Does that make sense?" He swallowed.
"I mean, it's your decision. This is not me trying to recruit you specifically. Or talk you out of something. But I'm trying to find out how I could make the pack better for everyone here in Lunar Cove who chooses it. I'd like to understand the pros and cons of both sides. Is there anything you feel you can share about that? If not right now, maybe...at some point?"
"Nah," they waved off his concerns, "there was nothing happening there anyways."
They watched him as he sat. He seemed confused, almost nervous. JC did not seem the type to be nervous. It was putting Tommy on edge. Ah. The question.
"Honest answer? I just don't want that life. I never thought that I'd turn or activate my curse, or gift or whatever. I never wanted this life." There was so much emotion, so much pain, around the topic, that they didn't quite know how to put it into words. "The moment that I join the Pack, my chances at normal disappear. Magic shit or not, I love my family but the rest of it, it wasn't supposed to be like this. I love them because they're my family, not because of what species they are. But, apparently, your Pack is also supposed to be like family but when you choose people to be your family because they're the same species as you and that's it, it doesn't feel like family to me. It feels like a glorified club. 'Only people like us allowed here, no one else'. I just don't like it." They tensed up as the rambling finally ended. "Plus, the idea of the Pack telepathy thing is a big no for me." The notion of having someone in their mind, privy to their most hidden thoughts, terrified them.
"Maybe, I'll feel differently eventually but, now? That's just how it is for me. I know it's different for other people but if the only reason I'm expected to join the Pack is because that's what's expected of werewolves, I won't. My reason is literally just that I don't want to." But that was a trickier conversation when your sister marries the Alpha.
"Dude, if you've got jumper cables, and, like, some fucking snow goggles, I might be able to figure it out myself," she joked. She perked up at the mention of a travel kit. "Oh, my god, that might actually be super helpful. I'm almost positive it's the battery. She's an old gal, and she's lived through a lot of harsh winters, but these days she's not a big fan of the cold." She patter the trucks hood fondly.
Squinting, she managed to clocked the stranger's features. "Hey, you're, uh, Tommy, right? Jas' sibling. I've seen you around a bit." She looked back into the car and got out her phone, shining the flashlight inside. She figured she could try to jump it off, first. That's probably be the best option.
"I think I might have jumper cables back there." Honestly, there was so much 'just in case' stuff back there, he definitely did. Motioning 'one minute', he quickly ran to the back of his car, glad he parked close by. Small mercies.
Bringing back the jumper cables, he also brought his own vehicle closer by, in case the old truck just needed a jump start. "I got the cables and a fire extinguisher, just in case." He clicked on a flash light, making sure to not blind her by accident. "If that doesn't work, there's also duct tape and spare fuses if you need 'em." He once found a list online saying what things you should keep close by in case of emergency and immediately got all of them. It didn't necessarily mean he knew how to use everything but better over-prepared than under.
Pleasantly surprised that she remembered, he nodded before remembering the awful visibility. "Yeah, that's me. And you're Kitty. I've seen you too." That sounded creepy. "At pack stuff, I mean." Great save(!)
With: @ofbloodandsnow Where: Peggy's diner, out in the snow
The sound of an engine trying and failing to start would be music to Kitty's ears if it was happening to literally anyone else, but it was unfortunately becoming the soundtrack to her evening. "Fucking, fucking fuck fuck fucker," she muttered, dropping her head onto the steering wheel. When she lifted it back up, she could visibly see her breath as it puffed out in a cloud when she sighed, moving to get out of the old truck.
"Why are you doing this to me?" she asked as she lifted up the hood, peering into the engine. "You're South Dakota born and raised, dude. Why the fuck are you giving out on me now?" She wondered if her hand-me-down clunker was on her last life, but, no. That wasn't possible. This truck was supposed to survive the apocalypse. A little cold weather wouldn't do it in.
Seeing someone else out, she waved over, not quite able to pick out who it was as the snow was starting to come down harder. "Hey!" she called out. "I don't suppose you know how to resuscitate a truck, do you?"
Pulling his jacket closer around himself, Tommy hurried towards his jeep when a half-familiar voice called him over. Last time we met a stranger in the dark, we got stabbed. His inside voice was surprisingly loud that night. But did we die?
"Hi," he called, meeting her at her very run-down truck, "uh, I don't know much but I could give it a try." Snow blurring his vision, he finally realised who had called him in the first place. Kitty something. She was in the pack. He had tried on more than one occasion to talk to her, even to just say hi, but always inevitably chickened out. Better late than never. "I've got a travel repair kit in my car, if you want?" He had never actually used it but it was good to be prepared.
Ronnie put her phone down and looked up at them, though her head was slightly hanging over the lounge, making it appear like he was upside-down. "Hi," she said, finally adjusting out of the angle, lolling her head as she turned on her side and sat up slightly. "That's right, she said, nodding as she remembered. "We did meet at the book store. I read sometimes." She actually looked at the novella beside her, discarded for her doom scrolling adventures.
"It's not bad. I relate to Carmilla a lot. Likes to sleep in. Likes chocolate. Something else, can't really put my finger on it," she joked, flashing fangs. She let her face settle, mildly curious as she looked at them. "You seem kind of spacey. D'you just donate?" she asked.
"Same. Well, not the," he motioned two fingers in front of his face as fangs, "but two out of three's a pass, right?" But who doesn't like sleep and chocolate?
Huh. Spacey. It was a good word and a pretty accurate one too. He definitely felt a little out of it. Which was apparently normal. "Yup, fangs for asking. First time so I'm little," he waved a hand side to side as he tried to get the right word, ultimately settling on, "spacey."