The foundation of such a method is love

A strange and difficult path. Indie Albert Rosenfield from Twin Peaks. s3 enthusiast. Open to playing any point of canon, crossovers and AUs.

[paxamericana]

[gordoncoleofficial-deactivated2]

Gordon Cole is recalling a day in 1981 when, he says, he “rescued” five federal agents that were on administrative leave from being fired.

“I HIT THE BRAKES ON IA, MAKE SOME CALLS AND PULL SOME STRINGS, GO BACK AND I HIRE THEM FOR A SPECIAL PARANORNAL TASKFORCE,” he says seriously. “THEIR NAMES WERE JEFFRIES, EARLE, COOPER, DESMOND, AND STANLEY AND THEY WERE MY BOYS AND THEY WERE IN MY OFFICE. THEY WERE MY DEAR FRIENDS FOR A WHILE BUT CERTAIN TRAITS STARTED COMING OUT AND THEY BECAME NOT SO NICE.”

Looking straight ahead he says with a grim finality: “THEY ARE NOT IN MY LIFE ANYMORE.”

[fromthoughttochaos]

The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde (1895)

[ofthehappygenerations]

bluerosebabes‌:

Besides the two of them the room is empty, he’s well aware of that, he hasn’t lost his grip on reality so completely; and yet, and yet, he somehow, with some sense clearer than sight, sees himself walking across the floor, so vividly it must be happening – and then Albert comes back up to him, blocking the view, kneels at his side and lifts a hand to Phil’s forehead, like he was checking if he’s running a fever: oh, wouldn’t that be a nice, safe explanation? Would become an anecdote, something to laugh off in a day or two. If only. He grabs Albert by the elbow and holds on tight, until he’s assured without a doubt that he’s in his body, and it’s here, and it’s real, though it feels like it got all scrambled up inside. He coughs again; his throat is dry and there’s a metallic taste in his mouth.

“Get me a glass of water, will ya?” He releases his grip on Albert’s arm, only to, on second thought, grasp at it again.

“Hey, Albert… don’t mention any of this to Gordon, okay?”

Albert rolls his eyes. “Sure, dad, I won’t tell mom, but only if you make a damn good case for convincing me that this really is nothing, and believe me, from where you’re standing now it’s one hell of an uphill battle.”

He pats Phil’s knuckles. Whatever’s going on, they can sort it out. When Cooper had moments like this and no-one else was around, he usually asked Albert not to leave the room, so he’s not too sure how to wish a glass of water out of thin air, but they’ll get there one step at a time. And if handling Cooper is like herding cats, Jeffries is uncharted territory, a fascinating mystery, but this is just a slip, Albert tells himself. Nothing they cannot handle. He may be a little spooked out by the situation, but his confidence is genuine.

[stupiidgood]

@ofthehappygenerations

“One straight man.”

“That’s all it takes, just one dirty straight man!”

[ofthehappygenerations]

“Plenty of those around, I’m afraid.”

[annaxiin-deactivated20180808]

[activitesparanormales]

AP/dh : from collages and photomontages, 2012-2018

[buckstopped]

❝I believe you.❞ He lies. This whole affair has shaken his belief in the absolute power of the FBI. Not that he has the same cynicism that local law enforcement often has, just that he’s come to realize they’re usually as confused as everyone else and don’t know much more than everyone else. Disappearances that take place within Twin Peaks are rarely solved. Murders occasionally and carjackings almost always but disappearances stay a mystery.

If they do find Cooper, there’s a possibility he won’t be the man who entered those red curtains. The Black Lodge fractured psyches or so the legends went. If he closes his eyes he can still see him in his favorite pajamas with the blood running down his forehead and into his eyes.

It struck me as funny, Harry. Do you understand me? It struck me as funny.

❝Nobody. I’m a grown man.❞ Harry says quickly. It might come as a complete shock to most but he didn’t have many folks to lean on. Sure, he knew everyone and everyone knew him but he didn’t have many close friends. Hawk and Ed weren’t incredibly emotionally open people and though Andy had somewhat of a comforting aura, it was a lot to put on him at a time like this.

He wanted his dad. Maybe it was stupid but he knew the Truman family patriarch would have some idea of what do do if he was here. But he wasn’t. He was all the way in Birmingham visiting some war buddies and he’d made it clear he wasn’t coming back for at least another month.

[ofthehappygenerations]

It’s wise to doubt, of course. Albert has tried all his life to make sense of this world, of the horrors they witness, of the gaps in the corner of his eyes, and all he’s left with is an empty room. Phillip warned him, when he joined Blue Rose - something about attitude, that Albert, in his youth, took entirely the wrong way. But they were still full of hope then, they felt that they could make a difference, rise from the ashes of Blue Book to build something better.

It’s wise to doubt. He’s not very believable with guilt and defeat weighing on his shoulders, and his voice has lost its edge. But he’s here and he’s trying his best.

“You’re a grown-ass imbecile with the self-preservation instincts of a naked mole-rat, Truman. This is no time to play lone cowboy,” says the man who has just flown through several hundred miles and driven for a couple of hours on his lonesome, steeping in his thoughts away from his own inadequate support net. “I’m driving you home if nobody else will.”

[ofthehappygenerations]

bluerosebabes‌:

He just gives up on walking and lets himself slowly sink down to the floor, leans back against a desk leg, and closes his eyes until the room stops spinning. Albert’s tone is concerned but sharp, and Phillip tries to muster up the composure that the little emphasis on ‘boss’ seemed to demand.

“Just needed some air. Saw the door here was left open, I found that a bit odd. I went in and I – I felt as if something hit me, like a fuckin’ truck.” He winces, looking around. Listening to the hubbub of an office Christmas party in its late stages filtered through the wall, reduced to a background hum. There’s a different noise underneath it that he can barely discern now, but it was clear just a moment ago.

“I think… I saw something, but it escapes me. Like a dream. It’s like I’m still –” he trails off, squinting at the far end of the room over Albert’s shoulder.

“Fuck no,” Albert mutters as soon as he gets the gist of Jeffries’ situation. He gestures to him to keep talking, I’m listening, go on, and takes a couple of steps back toward the door. “Think about taxes for a hot second, you lot!” he shouts at the rest of the party, which will surely confuse their guests from accounting, but it’s not like Albert has any social reputation to maintain to begin with. Maybe Gordon will come up with something to explain his odd behavior, maybe he won’t. With Cooper around, it won’t be the oddest anecdote they’ll bring home that night, anyway.

In a moment, he’s back to Phillip’s side and he carefully places the palm of his hand on Phillip’s forehead. He half hopes to find him feverish in a way that will explain his words as simply delirious, but mostly, he’s letting Phil know that he’s real and he’s there. A solid, tangible presence to anchor him to the here and now.

[buckstopped]

❝I’m considering it.❞

He isn’t. It was more of a plea than a threat. He doesn’t think he could muster the willpower and give his first momentum. Harry had felt so badly after he’d struck Albert for the first time. Cooper had sent him back to the Bronco where he’d sat in exile for the five minutes it took the fight to be resolved. Then he’d fretted over it a little, it was Albert’s job he was interfering with even if the man was insensitive and had it coming.

It had been when Albert had tried to get him fired that that little bit of regret dissipated. It wasn’t like he had any other plans in life other than be the sheriff of Twin Peaks. There just wasn’t anything else he could do. Even now when part of him is considering walking out the door and never coming back, he can’t think of a place to go. He can’t stay here, that’s for sure. If he spends one more night on the couch in the lounge, someone will probably get him committed.

❝Will you-❞ Will you drive me home?

It’s on the tip of his tongue to ask. If he has to do it his own damn self he’ll probably spend another night at the station. He feels too bad to drive, that and the knows he doesn’t want to be at home where the nearest human being is five miles away. Still, he isn’t sure he can tolerate being in a car with Albert. There had been a time when Coop was still around that he’d genuinely began to believe he could like the son of a bitch but now his patience is so thin mere words might rupture it.

[ofthehappygenerations]

“I thought so.” There’s a note of disappointment - being hit would make him feel better, maybe. Make him feel something other than this numb anger.

Harry, it seems, is beyond even that. It’s painful to see the good, simple Sheriff, sturdy as a cow and with the capacity for evil of a small sponge, drained like this. He can’t even finish what he was about to ask and Albert feels his heart sink, partly out of pity, partly seeing himself in all that ache, exhaustion, hurt. He sure did a number on them, Coop.

“And yeah, I will.”

“I’ll find him, Truman. You can count on that,” he says, answering to the most pressing question on his mind instead of the one Harry meant to ask. He’s out there, somewhere. They won’t fail this time, not like with Phil, not like with Chet. Albert isn’t sure he would survive failure (he will, and he’ll survive more lies and defeats, but each time something will be lost). 

“And when I do, you will not want to look like a washed-out rag stuck under a cowboy hat. Who’s looking after you, a garbage raccoon?”

[laughingpinecone]

Retirement plans

[palesicopath]

[ofthehappygenerations]

//(am I missing anyone? Super old threads still very much welcome, please like this post if we had something going that you want to continue and I’ll go dig my overdue reply!)

[bluerosebabes]

❛ Not seeing the rip doesn’t mean you automatically get to keep clear of the Hey-I’m-Bleeding part. ❜

@ofthehappygenerations

“I’m fine,” he hisses through gritted teeth, for about the fifth time since Albert has found him slumped against the wall, looking decidedly not fine. “Don’t fuss.” He tries to prove his point by pushing himself upright, and walking away across the room, only to promptly stagger and double over, coughing into his sleeve; it comes off stained red.

“Ah, fuck,” he mutters, and then glances up at Albert with a grimace. “If you got a little ‘I told you so’ dance prepared, guess that’s your cue.”

[ofthehappygenerations]

“Hold that thought, I forgot my ballet shoes at home.”

Albert uncrosses his arms and kneels down to get a better look at the crumpled mess that is Phillip Jeffries. If he was primed and ready to fuss before, when it just looked like the Bureau’s wonder boy had had one too many of whatever he was having, he’s fully alarmed now.

“And this is your cue to tell me what happened, boss.”

[angelsabsenta-deactivated202501]

‘ well, looks like we both got fucked. ’

  ❝ welcome to twin peaks! ❞  laura parrots the town’s welcoming sign slogan with veiled mockery,  her chin propped on her hand.  her smile has edges,  her eyes shadows.  ❝ i think the new phrase should be ‘  who needs pie when the fuckery is so sweet?  enjoy!  ’   —  what’dya think,  mr. fbi man?  too on the nose? ❞

SHARP OBJECTS SENTENCE STARTERS MEME / @ofthehappygenerations

[ofthehappygenerations]

Albert wasn’t expecting a coherent reply, let alone a funny one, from what looked like your average stoned kid. Or anyone else in town, really. He lifts an amused eyebrow - maybe there are two working neurons in a ten-miles range from city hall.

"Too on the nose? For this crowd? Girl, you’ve already used up your weekly figurative quota. But do run that slogan by the tourism board, it’d liven up that welcome sign of yours.”

[buckstopped]

@ofthehappygenerations continued from here.

❝Do you have anything useful to say?❞

Harry says, bitingly, an injured animal snapping at anything and anyone that stopped to help it. It wasn’t like there weren’t many people who tried to reach out to him and pull him back from the edge but he drove them back with the agility of a matador. He felt like the whole town was rubbernecking and watching him like he was a slow dreadful motor-crash. And he didn’t appreciate it.

He rests his head on the desk once more, eyes fixed on the familiar wood grain. He didn’t like leaving the office anymore. He was safe in his wood-paneled shag-carpeted kingdom. Here there were things to do, people to talk to, stimulus of many kinds. Home was a place of desolation where the only thing to do was think and the only thing to think of was them. Him and her. Especially him. God forbid he isn’t around if and when Cooper comes back.

That’s why he’s there, that’s why he’s stopped drinking, that’s why he’s sitting in his office even when he feels the sickest he’s ever felt. He has to be there in case something happens. It’s just that he feels so damn terrible today he wonders if Hank Williams wasn’t woofing when he insinuated you could die of a broken heart. It’s the hope that keeps him from dropping dead on the spot, sheer will power that keeps his heart pumping and his mind going.

❝Go find someone else to pick on, Albert. I’m not in the mood.❞

[ofthehappygenerations]

“Or what, Truman?” 

Albert, too, wears his heartache on his sleeve, barely clinging to his dignity to carry himself through the day. He can’t face Diane nor the gaping void in Gordon’s open-air office, so he’s here, trying to make a difference, but he’s only human and it’s the third time he goes through this. He made it through the other two, eventually. This one, he’s not sure. Where does all that love go?

“You’re gonna punch me?”

He follows that taunt with a half-hearted laughter. Remember, Harry? Like you did when Coop was still here, and he rushed to your defense, and he never got to apologize to me nor to Miss Ferguson for what might have been if he had not, and now it will remain yet another open wound that’ll bleed us out every time our memory brings us back to that day. Would it that he could go pick on someone else, he’d have so much to throw back in the face of that brylcreem-soaked cretin, but he’s not around, funny how that goes.

[ofthehappygenerations]

//I’ll be finally getting to my replies this afternoon! RL is busy (in a good way!) so I don’t have more than a few hours a week for rp...

[movedtobeforesunrise]