intergalactic you & me.
I know it's easy to imagine, but it's easier to just do. see, if you can't do what you imagine then what is imagination to you?
"don't you think about coming near me unless you're coming back from them emts judah fisher!" dixie scolded him when she saw him approaching. "i ain't fixin' to get some disease during this lame ass fireworks show, i'll watch it with someone else don't even play around right now!" truth be told, she'd been waiting for him in particular the last twenty minutes because she wanted to go climb up on the ufo statue with him and get cozy for the fireworks. however, that didn't mean she was going to let him walk around with some infected gash on his finger.
ew.
she worked the day shift just so she could watch the show and why wouldn't she? it's rare she gets to see anything fun and exciting around there anymore. at least this was something outside the norm, right? "good," was all she said when he got close enough for her to see the bandaged injury. "now let's go get something to eat and a mixer for this. i'm tryin' to have a good time tonight." she flashed a peek of the flask on the inside of her bombers jacket. it was just some mid-shelf vodka she'd swiped from the club but it was good enough for tonight. "can we go up to the ufo?" dixie asked, though it wasn't a request she expected to have denied.
does judah think that he needs to go see an emt about his hand? no, not really. it looks worse than it is, and it's only because he's literally just gotten out of the tank and he's soaking wet. if he dries off, he probably seal his hand back up with some liquid bandage and call it a day. but dixie insists, so he does. he's also smart enough not to mention that even if his hand did get infected, it's not the kind of infection she'd be able to catch just by watching fireworks with him. she knows that. he just turns on his heels and pivots toward first aid instead, leaving a trail of water dripping behind him as he weaves through guests.
and maybe there are benefits to listening, because after ellie looked at his bad hand and he filled out an incident report with his good one, the big boss told him he could have the rest of the day off. he's not sure he's ever been happier for ❛ park policy. ❜
❝ what, you ain't gonna kiss it better for me? ❞ judah feigns a pout as he extends his hand―now bandaged―to be met with a simple ❛ good ❜ by dixie. ❝ that hurts, hon. hell, probably gonna get infected and fall off now. i'm gonna have to steal one from big fish, then what's he gonna do? ❞ he drops the act when his gaze falls on her flask, pout transforming into a smirk as he reaches out for her wrist with his free hand to tug her closer to his side so he can toss an arm over her shoulder. ❝ you and me both―and i get the feeling i'm gonna need it if you're about to be out here making me climb that damn tower one-handed. ❞
he would do it, though, not least of all because it's her that's asking.
❝ pick your poison : lemonade, icees, coke. or if you're trying to get weird we could hit up that vending machine that's got the orbitz in it. i got the master code, we could try every flavor. ❞
who : frankie terrell ( @fterrell ) ∘ where : astroland, near the water park
❝ what time are you off today anyway? ❞ the question comes out half-garbled by a mouthful of pizza ( courtesy of astroland management―as if a couple of slices and a generic can of coke are decent compensation for the chaos they unleashed in the park with this half-baked independence day celebration ) as jay leans forward against the picnic table in the outdoor break area.
it's quieter over here than in the heart of the park, the clamor of the crowd just a faint hum behind the crackle of the radio a few feet away. he'd suggested frankie bring jade and johnny back here for some free food and a chance to cool down before hitting the park rides again, more so he could have a few minutes with his best friend off the clock. his gaze flickers toward the kids briefly and then back to frankie, head cocked in a curious tilt as he tears off a piece of crust.
❝ i assume you're sticking around for show tonight? pretty sure i've seen your whole family roaming around by now plus some and it's only, what― ❞ jay pauses to glance at his watch. ❝ ―one? they're scoping out the place early. ❞ if the fireworks he'd seen in the supply closet earlier this morning were any indication, it was going to be a big display. he supposes he can't blame folks for their excitement, not really. jay half-wonders, though, if the park had enough foresight to have additional emts on hand if things happen to go awry. probably not. the only real silver lining? he won't be here to see it if something does go wrong.
❝ i gotta be at wolfe's, but i was thinking about trying to talk gabe into coming to see them anyway. ❞ there's an unspoken question behind the offered information. you'd keep an eye on him for me if he did? it should seem an outlandish request―his younger brother is thirty-one now, he's a grown man―but some paranoia just never really leaves. ❝ you could come grab a drink after your family heads home. i think dom's running cheap specials all night. ❞
not that jay doesn't usually slip him one or two on the house anyway.
who : gabe osorio ( @astrostellcr ) ∘ where : the retro rocket diner
❝ you going to see the fireworks tonight? ❞ it's an honest question, even if jay half-suspects he already knows how his younger brother will answer. working at astroland might have been an osorio family tradition for decades, but all of that seemed to fall apart after―well, jay's sure he can't be blamed if he doesn't actually want to think about it right now. if he doesn't want to think about him. he's still got one brother right here to worry about, right in front of him. once their dad retired, jay was the only one left working at astroland. and the only reason he went back was because they needed the money ; if he could've found a better job somewhere else, he would've taken it. he couldn't. ❝ you could get in for free if you wanted to. i've got to be at wolfe's den later or i'd go with you, but i know who's working the turnstiles tonight, i could make a call. ❞
jay glances toward the window to the kitchen behind the diner counter and then to the clock on the wall above it. he's got to be at the bar in less than an hour, actually, but he tries to check in with gabe as often as he can. it's still not as often as he'd like, but he is trying. weeks like these where he's scheduled to work double after double, he tries to meet him for coffee or, in this case, dinner. the food at the diner's cheap enough, anyway, and if his regulars tonight are feeling generous, he'll make more than their meals' worth back in tips before long.
❝ what are you getting? ❞ jay asks after a moment, turning the conversation back toward easier territory. safer. ❝ i think i'm gonna get a burger. ❞ as if he ever orders anything else.
BETWEEN THE TWO JOBS that daria worked to pay her bills to keep the lights on ( it was far from luxury, but it was home ) -- rarely ever did she find herself having a night off, especially on the weekend. most of the time, club enigma was off the chain on a friday night -- but daria wouldn't be caught dead drinking from the very supply she served unless her friends were absolutely insistent on going there. plus, oogling the handsome bartender while nursing a guinness sounded like a plenty enjoyable evening. she'd been dancing with a friend near the nearby jukebox, catching her breath at the bar with a delighted, yet winded expression.
" what, y'look like you've seen'a ghost, osorio. " daria teases, the giggle that follows slightly amplified by the two other beers she had previously consumed. after a moment she pauses, hand coming to rest on her cheek as she examines his face. " what -- i promise i'm gonna be good. you're lookin' at me like y'want me to swear on a body part or somethin'. " one more pause. " c'moooooon, i didn't take y'for a buzzkill. "
❝ hm? ❞ it's not that jay has been trying not to pay attention to his customers, but it's difficult to keep himself from drifting into autopilot automatically on nights like these. even if he weren't already tired from working a full first shift at astroland on what was arguably the busiest day that the park has seen in years―and christ, he is exhausted, tired doesn't even begin to do justice to the way his body is screaming at him just to sit for a fucking second―it would've hit him like a brick wall anyway the second he showed up at wolfe's den to discover that damn near every local over the age of twenty-one had decided the dive bar was the spot to escape tourism on the holiday.
jay knew as soon as he walked through the door that it was gonna be a long night. and he wasn't wrong.
❝ shit, ❞ the bartender says, shaking his head as he snaps out of his daze wiping down the counters, ❝ that bad, huh? ❞ he tosses down the towel to drag a hand over his face, smothering a half-attempt at a chuckle behind his palm. ❝ sorry, i wasn't, uh―i was a million miles away just then, ❞ jay confesses. ❝ long day. it's got nothing to do with you, i swear. ❞ even if he doesn't actually believe she's going to ❛ be good ❜ like she says. he tries to put on a smile then as he presses his palms to the counter and leans into the bar. ❝ what can i do for you, trouble? you need another drink? ❞
who : remington ambrose ( @blvckhcles ) ∘ where : astroland
lindsay o'halloran does not enjoy small talk. in fact, given the opportunity, he will go out of his way to avoid it―especially if it isn't coming from one of his friends. ( he doesn't actually have very many of those, not unless he were to count santiago's siblings. and, to be fair, he's not sure they'd let him count them, so he doesn't. ) he's not a conversationalist by any stretch of the imagination and he doesn't pretend to be either. he's got no need.
so when he approaches a man he recognizes as an employee of the starship lodge―purely by chance, he's not keeping tabs on the motel employees―there's more to his motive than he cares to offer freely. his question isn't just a polite nicety.
❝ how's business? ❞ lindsay asks, apropos of nothing, when he finds himself in line next to the other man while waiting for concessions. he knows that remington isn't in motel management, he might not even have a truly guest-facing role, but he works there. he's got to have some sort of idea what kind of crowds this event brought in starship. and so maybe lindsay's curious―can he be blamed? that campy motel is their bed and breakfast's only competition. ❝ did this crowd make it all the way out to starship then, or are the whole lot of them daytrippers? ❞
who : javier muñoz ( @astrostellcr ) ∘ where : somewhere in astroland
❝ i swear t'christ, trying to get yer entire family all in one spot is like trying t'herd feckin' cats. ❞ by now, it is in fact lindsay's family, too, but he suspects that of the entire muñoz clan, javier might be the least inclined to say so. he's won over the rest of santiago's siblings well enough ( and by that, he means he suspects they tolerate him ) but javier has always seemed an almost perfect opposite of his older brother―prickly in places where santiago is soft. perhaps that's why he and lindsay seem to grate on each other so often : they're too much alike. at very least, that's what santi would say. it's what he says about why lindsay argues with maisie so much. he doesn't see it. he doubts javier would either. ❝ actually, i take it back. cats would be easier. ❞
lindsay crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against a lamp post as he regards the younger muñoz curiously.
❝ wasn't sure if ye'd be working today or not. neither was santi. i take it ye are. ❞ at least, lindsay doesn't think javier would walk around wearing an astroland maintenance shirt on his day off. ❝ think ye could sneak off a few minutes t'watch the fireworks with yer family? santiago has a table with a good view, i picked up connie and nora. might make 'em all happy if ye made an appearance. ❞
who : maisie o'halloran ( @inanuration ) ∘ where : astroland
❝ wipe the scowl off yer face, ye miserable wee shite. yer gonna scare away all the potential customers ❞
there's a rare smirk lifting the corners of his lips as lindsay strides up to the games booth where his nibling must have been assigned for their shift ; he and santiago haven't been at the park for very long, but he's kept his eyes peeled for the younger o'halloran since they entered. with the sun slowly beginning to sink toward the horizon and flooding the sky with color, the midway has begun to come alive, all flashing neon lights against a deep fuchsia backdrop. lindsay has never been a fan of noise―auditory or visual or otherwise―but there is something strangely charming about the kitschy aesthetic of astroland.
( or maybe that's just what he's telling himself since he's already invested so much of his life in the city built on this place. )
❝ here, got y'this ❞ lindsay says, abruptly holding out a gaudy souvenir cup. he's sure they've got access to whatever concessions they want working at the park, but the truth is, he spent far too much on this unnaturally-dyed lemonade and if he's not going to drink it himself, somebody should. maisie doesn't need to know he took a sip first and nearly gagged before returning to the same stand to purchase a bottle of water. ❝ i was sent for information. when're ye getting off? santi wants to know if yer gonna be able t'watch the fireworks with us. ❞
actually, it's him that's wondering. maisie doesn't need to know that either.
who : javier muñoz ( @astrostellcr ) ∘ where : astroland
❝ oh shit, what are you doing here? ❞ to be fair, judah shouldn't be surprised when he finds javier hanging out near the park's maintenance shed. he was supposed to be the one on shift today ( he'd even volunteered for it, he wanted that holiday pay ) but park management fumbled and put him on that busted ass dunk tank that tore up his palm and forced him to not only visit first aid but also file an official incident report. the only good news? the office where he had to fill out all that goddamn paperwork was air-conditioned. a high price to pay for a short reprieve from the heat, but judah would take what he could get.
❝ did they call you in or something? i told 'em i could still work, not like i need two hands to hold a wrench so long as they don't try to put me back in the dunk tank. ❞ the other ride tech lifts his left hand by way of wordless explanation ; the appendage is wrapped in ( what judah thinks is frankly an excessive amount of ) gauze from knuckles to wrist. judah wiggles his fingers and shrugs. ❝ but i guess it's some sort of policy or some shit, 'cause they gave me the rest of the day off. ❞
his other hand holds an icee with a heavy pour from the flask in his back pocket. he swirls the half-melted drink around a bit before crackling off the lid and holding it out in an offer. ❝ maybe you'll get lucky and none of the ride operators will be fuckin' dumb and everything will run smooth tonight. ❞ was it likely? no. but it didn't hurt to hope. ❝ did you have plans? ❞
AS MUCH AS CONNIE loved what she did every day -- having made a life out of the very work that helped her get her feet underneath her, there was nothing more annoying when she was sequestered to her office to fill out piles upon piles of paperwork. and yet, perhaps it was a gene in the muñoz line that made her incapable of leaving any stone unturned; the kind of perfectionism that made her incapable of rushing absolutely anything she did. usually she's thinking about dinner, or if she should bring takeout home for her and nora. it's just her luck as she's finally allowed herself to find a state of focus that she hadn't previously anticipated, that she can't help but notice someone out of the corner of her eye.
" you've always had incredibly light feet, lindsay. " connie hums, placing the sheet she'd been working on, filling out the final line before placing it aside and looking upward. even if at first connie appears rather hardened from afar, those who are able to get close enough know that she's anything but. oil-stained hands clasp together as they rest on her desk, offering a quiet, content smile. " to what do i owe the pleasure? "
❝ d'ye ken ye might be the first person to ever have said so? ❞ the smile might not be visible on his lips as lindsay pushes open the door to connie's office at the auto garage and steps inside, but it's almost audible in the faint upward lilt of his question. it's not that he considers himself particularly heavy-footed, but he also makes no effort to be quiet either. he likes to think he would have heard himself coming, but perhaps that's just a residual attention to detail left over from a decade and a half of service. it doesn't really matter anyway, does it? if she'd waited just a second or two longer, he would've announced his presence himself. he is here for her, after all. ❝ at least ye dinnae startle easy. ❞
lindsay leans against the doorway as he waits for her to look up, brows lifting when connie finally meets his gaze. ❝ did he not tell ye i was coming? ❞ the sigh comes from somewhere deep in his chest as lindsay shakes his head. ❝ santiago sent me to pick ye up so we can go get nora, said we're all going to see the fireworks together, something about core family memories. i don't know. ❞ lindsay doesn't ask questions, not when it comes to santiago. he simply says ❛ yes, a ghràidh ❜ and does as he's asked. he blinks at connie and then glances over his shoulder. ❝ are ye ready to leave, then? i left the car running. ❞
who : ellie castellon ( @syreneyes ) ∘ where : astroland, first aid area
❝ before you go saying anything, it ain't as bad as it looks. ❞ to his credit, judah is fairly confident he's telling the truth ; he's no doctor ( though his pops did try to instill a basic knowledge of first aid in him and his brother both ) but he's almost positive his hand only looks like it's bleeding that much because he's still soaking wet and all that water is mixing with the blood and making him look like a goddamn trauma victim. the white shirt probably doesn't help, either ; it's gonna be permanently stained pink now, he knows it. ❝ i wasn't even gonna come over here and waste your time, but i was told i gotta get it checked out, so. ❞
this isn't the first time the ride technician has had to visit ellie during a shift. as much as he suspects the park's emts are there for the safety of the guests more than anything, some of the shoddier park equipment has left his hands near mangled a couple of times and he's found himself forced to first aid to get patched up ❛ by a fuckin' professional, judah ❜ more than he'd care to admit. it's a wonder this kid hasn't gotten sick of seeing his face yet. or, if he has, judah hasn't noticed.
❝ there ain't a ladder to get up and outta that damn dunk tank, ❞ judah starts to explain, turning away from ellie to shake the water from his hair to keep it from dripping in his eyes. ❝ kept havin' to haul myself up by the metal rim every time i got dropped in, which was fine except for the jagged edge that got me right in the palm. ❞ he thrusts his hand out toward the emt. ❝ whaddaya think, doc? do i need stitches or can you just glue me back up or something? ❞
who : jonah fisher ( @uf0parking ) ∘ where : astroland, the dunk tank
❝ oh, you asshole! ❞ the exclamation is tumbling out of him the moment judah sees his twin weaving through the crowd of people occupying the midway where the dunk tank has been set up. the alien mask in his hands ( a cheap plastic thing with an elastic headstrap after he argued the safety concerns of wearing a fully over the head vinyl mask and being submerged into questionable water ) is swiftly shoved under his arm as he strides up to meet jonah. ❝ what the fuck are you doing here, huh? don't you got some unicorns and ufos to be painting onto hats and shit? ❞
of course judah knew jonah was working today. he knows his brother's schedule just as well as his own. they live together, they work together, they hang out together when they're not working. it would be impossible not to commit his schedule to memory. ( he's sure jonah would agree to disagree. ) that's exactly why judah didn't tell jonah when he got assigned to the ❛ alien dunk tank. ❜ he knew big fish would show up to pull some bullshit. lucky for him, jonah's always been more of an artist than athlete.
❝ hey, how come they didn't make you do this shit too, huh? how'd you get out of it? ❞ he pulls the mask over his curls and cocks his head at his brother. ❝ hey, you think management would get pissed if i took my shirt off? i mean, it's gonna get wet the first time someone takes a shot. what's the point? ❞
who : daria saad ( @blvckhcles ) ∘ where : astroland, near the water park
❝ jesus christ, you're hard to find, you know that? ❞ forgive him if he sounds a little surly about it ; judah was informed by management that he had exactly thirty minutes until they needed him for his ❛ volunteer shift ❜ at the dunk tank―nobody asked him shit, thank you very much―and he's spent the last ten of it roaming the perimeter of the wave pool and scanning the lines at the water slides for any sight of the lifeguard. ❝ if my life was actually in danger, i'd be so fucked right now, and it'd be your fault, you know that? ❞ he doesn't mean it. ❝ that's a lawsuit, saad. get your shit together. ❞
judah drags a hand over his face, and when it quickly slides down skin slick with sweat, he lifts the collar of his t-shirt to swipe over it instead. it doesn't matter. he's going to be drenched in an hour anyway.
❝ listen, there's a reason i was lookin' for you. ❞ he says it more to direct his own line of thought than to suggest she's not paying attention. ❝ you guys got any spare, uh, fuckin'― ❞ judah pantomimes wildly in front of his eyes for a moment before the word finds him. ❝ ―goggles! you got any goggles? i'm stuck on that goddamn dunk tank and i don't know what they put in that water to dye it, but it don't smell right. i don't want that shit in my eyes. ❞
Days like today would be categorized under one of Mingyu's favorite days of the year, if it hadn't been a workday. There was something cruel about being stuck behind a stand with a perfect view of at least three rides that he couldn't get on. Sure, the pay was good, but aside from that, the only thing that made up for his sweet smelling prison was the amount of people in the park. Gyu was used to very quiet days, especially the rainy ones were long and boring. But at least today Astroland seemed to be bustling with people eager to bring their kids somewhere for free.
( And what was better than unsupervised kids? Unsupervised kids on a sugar rush. It reminded him of his own childhood — careless, fearless, bound to get into accidents. )
"What can I get you today? We have fresh, extra-terrestrial popcorn, galactic cotton candy clouds, M&Ms from Mars, spaceship worthy Skittles- You know what? Can I interest you in our limited edition Icee? It is guaranteed to stain your tongue for the rest of the day, so you can convince the aliens you're one of them! I tested it."
He stuck out his tongue as proof, showing off the bright blue color. "I drank it two hours ago. Can you believe it?"
❝ fuck's sake, just because i'm not in uniform don't mean you gotta talk to me like i'm one of them. ❞ as he says the word, judah gestures vaguely over his shoulder toward the unusually large crowd of people wandering the park. tourists. he'd be a liar to try and suggest that astroland doesn't need the business, but he also didn't actually expect this level of turnout. listen, judah saw independence day. it wasn't bad, but he didn't think it was this good, either. he turns his gaze back to mingyu, squinting against the early afternoon sun. ❝ i'm just coming over here 'cause i got voluntold i gotta go sit target at the dang dunk tank and i forgot my water, wanted to grab a drink before i gotta sizzle in the sun for a couple hours. ❞
should he be drinking water? maybe. but he's pretty sure he's gonna swallow enough of it from the tank. he'll be fine.
❝ did they make you drink one just so you could do that? ❞ judah asks when mingyu sticks out his tongue. and then, after a moment of internal deliberation, he adds, ❝ what flavor is it? blue raspberry? ❞ he shakes his head, glancing over the counter of the stand as if he might find the answer there. ❝ if it's blueberry or something, you can keep that shit. i don't want it. but if it's blue raspberry― ❞ he hesitates for exactly half a second before, ❝ ―fuck it, gimme a large, mingyu. i deserve it. ❞
likes lady grey tea + sunrises + label makers + the ocean + lemon fresh pine-sol + air-dried laundry
dislikes small talk + coffee + sunburn + disorganization + laziness + rain + eating in bed
moral alignment lawful good
mbti entj
background.
CONTAINS THE FOLLOWING TRIGGERS : homophobia; abuse; military
From the outside, the O’Halloran household in Elderslie, Scotland, appeared perfectly picturesque. Graeme had a secure government job, Eilidh minded the house and their two children, Niamh and Lindsay, were quiet and obedient. But behind closed doors, their father might as well have been a tyrant and their mother, numb on prescription pills, made no effort to stop him or to protect their children. To survive the shouting and thrown dishes over dinner, Lindsay and Niamh became fiercely protective of one another, often hiding away in her bedroom and weaving tales of their eventual escape. For years, Lindsay managed to successfully appease his father by keeping his head down and behaving as was expected, maintaining high marks in school and speaking only when spoken to.
But his world shattered on a brisk September afternoon just before his sixteenth birthday when his mother walked into his bedroom to find him pinned under Colin Bigbie from trigonometry class in a tangle of lips and limbs. Colin scrambled out of the house and escaped the fallout; Lindsay wasn’t so lucky. To avoid his father’s judgment, Lindsay immediately signed up for the army, enlisting as a Junior Soldier in The Royal Scots at the age of sixteen. His mother was devastated, but his father supported the decision—relieved to wash his hands of a son he now considered a shame in the eyes of God and hopeful he’d maybe find some redemption there. The next week, Lindsay endured a silent seven-hour drive from Elderslie to the training barracks in Berkshire. He didn’t say goodbye.
Lindsay threw himself into the military because he had no other choice, adapting quickly to a regimented, disciplined routine. He isolated himself from the other young men in the barracks, locking in on his training and spending any free time he had writing letters to Niamh. His parents ignored every attempt he made to reach out, though his mother was allowed to take his phone calls on holidays. Lindsay found he didn’t miss them as much as he thought he would and, upon completing his training, he only briefly returned home to visit Niamh before being deployed for his first tour to Belize for Tropical Environment training. At the visit, Niamh announced to the family she was moving to the U.S..
Belize was a trial unlike anything Lindsay had ever experienced before. The suffocating South American heat fried his freckled Scottish skin, but Lindsay didn’t mind. The physical pain provided a welcome distraction from everything he was trying to escape, everything he was trying to avoid. And Christ, but it worked! The military didn’t care who he was, they only cared what he could do—what he was capable of. And Belize taught Lindsay he was a highly capable man. He excelled at the training program and led his squadron to so many successes, his superiors kept him on as a permanent instructor for the training unit.
For the next twelve years, the sweltering barracks of Ladyville became Lindsay’s home. He completely immersed himself in the culture of the country—drinking Belikin, sharing panades with locals, and learning to speak fluent Spanish and Belizean Creole. But Belize gave him so much more than just purpose and confidence. It gave him Santiago. Lindsay didn’t know how to love or be loved, but Santiago was patient. He was worth the effort. Thousands of miles away, Niamh had a baby in Intercept, New Mexico. Maisie. Lindsay got to know them through polaroids tucked into letters and babbled conversations over the phone and, when he had the opportunity, he took leave so he and Santiago could go meet them in person. His heart finally felt full.
Six years after that moment, Lindsay’s entire world fell apart. He and Santiago were back in Ladyville when he received the frantic call from his American cousins: Niamh and Maisie were gone. Vanished. There was no explanation, no clear cause. Lindsay requested an immediate discharge and began tying up loose ends in Belize. He’d not even finished packing when they got another call. Maisie had been found. Niamh hadn’t.Within a week, Lindsay was touching down at Albuquerque International Sunport. It was a different kind of heat in New Mexico, dry and burning. Not for the first time, Lindsay welcomed the distraction. He needed it. Until they could find Niamh and make sense of everything, Intercept would be their home.
But they didn’t make sense of everything, not really. They didn’t find Niamh either. Lindsay wasn’t ready to raise a child, he didn’t know how, but Maisie was all he had of Niamh and he didn’t trust anyone else with the task. He had Santiago, though. He’d come to New Mexico not long after Lindsay, as soon as he could get a transfer processed—and thank Christ he did. Lindsay wouldn’t have been able to do it without him. They bought the Silver Lining Bed & Breakfast when it became apparent they were staying; Santiago was personable enough to chat with the guests and he made the place feel like a home, and Lindsay hovered in the background, cleaning and doing repairs—and teaching Maisie what he could when they were willing to listen. It wasn’t that often, admittedly; as much as he loved them, the kid was a pain in the ass. They still are. These days, Lindsay tries to focus on what he does have and not what he’s missing, but the unanswered questions about his sister still haunt him more than he’d care to admit.
likes carhartt coveralls + a cold beer and a joint after work + a shady afternoon nap + the smell of gasoline
dislikes egotism ( unless it's his own ) + head highs + science fiction + performative kindness
moral alignment chaotic neutral
mbti estp
background.
TRIGGER WARNING : pregnancy; childbirth; death
When Sylvia and Mark Fisher discovered that they were expecting twins, it was an unanticipated but wholly welcome surprise. They were in love, after all, and Sylvia was thrilled at the thought of settling into their cozy little home in Roswell and putting down roots, building a family, even if the thought of twins did come as a shock to her unsuspecting husband. He quickly acclimated to the idea, but his sense of security was ripped from beneath his feet just as swiftly when a tragic complication during the cesarean left Mark a widow and a single father of two infant boys, Jonah and Judah. Long hours at the fire station and a dedication to his community meant that Mark relied heavily on his sister in Intercept to help raise his sons, frequently looking after them alongside her own brood of children. They didn’t necessarily have a bad childhood; Judah wasn’t ignorant enough to be blind to the fact that they had more than many, able to boast a father that tried to raise them right, a handful of close family, and a consistent roof over their heads. It never stopped them from staying out of trouble, but it was enough to keep them in check.
Although he’d never felt in any way that he had to compete with his twin, it was almost as if being the younger of the two—even if only by seven minutes—had instilled in Judah an innate drive to compensate. Or maybe that was just growing up in a house with so many heads between them and his cousins that it became easy to slip through the cracks. Their father did their best to raise him, but Judah still hungered for attention from the start. This inherent yearning encouraged his mind and his mouth in equal part as he grew up, carving out a sharp wit and holding his tongue—he caught the attention and accolades of his teachers when he was young, even if he did grow into something more of a beacon for wasted potential by the time he reached high school. A warning.
Whether he had the aptitude for it or not, he was never meant to succeed within the confines of conventional higher education. The world had bigger plans for the Fisher twins, Judah was convinced of it, even if he didn’t know for certain the specifics when he was burning college acceptance letters over the sink and workshopping possible futures involving the pair of them from the counter of their aunt’s kitchen. They’d figure it out. For a while, Judah was convinced that his future involved The Fishery—the junkyard in town that his uncle owned. One day it would be theirs—his uncle told him so, promised when he was just a boy—and he’d turn it into a proper garage, something that could rival Orion’s if they really wanted it to. But then the Vipers moved into Intercept, and though his uncle might have been retired from the MC in his older age, once you’re in, you never really hang up your cut. They swooped in when his uncle got sick like vultures at the first whiff of carrion. The Fishers didn’t so much as see the keys to the junkyard that carried their name.
He is good with cars, though. He’d better be—he’s been working with them since he was old enough to hold a wrench. Judah always had a knack for mechanics and engineering; he’s smart, even if you’d never guess it to look at him. It wasn’t difficult to secure a gig at the garage. No, what was difficult was trying to figure out how to live on what he made there alone. He and Jonah live together so the bills weren’t awful, but that didn’t mean he wanted to stay shit broke forever. Folks weren’t coming through Intercept like they used to, and it seemed only locals—several of whom already knew how to do their own repairs to save money—were coming through to get work done. His brother already had a job at Astroland to supplement the tattoo shop he was running out of the basement of their uncle’s old place and to help fund his zine, so it only seemed logical for Judah to snag a job there, too. His knowledge of cars translated well to ride mechanics, and he quickly landed a position at the park.
Judah knows he should be satisfied. He’s got two reliable jobs that pay decent enough that he’s never got to worry about struggling from check to check, he and his brother have a roof over their heads that belongs to them, and there’s still plenty of good in his life to counteract all the bullshit he puts up with on a daily basis. But he’s not satisfied. He still wants the Fishery back, even if he knows he’d probably die trying. He knows better than to pick a war with a gang as a solitary man—even if he does think Jonah would back him up—but if any of those Viper assholes step too close or start running their mouths around him? It’s on sight.
Some of the earliest memories Jaime Osorio can recall are sun-drenched and sticky with cotton candy crumbs. His parents, Mateo and Elena, were still young when they made the decision to move to Intercept while Adventureland was still in development. They could see the promised potential in the stretch of underdeveloped desert and they wanted to invest in it while the opportunity was still hot. They wanted to invest in a future. In fact, Mateo’s hands were among the many that built Adventureland, and he and Elena both found jobs at the amusement park after it opened. The work was steady and the pay wasn’t bad, and when they were old enough to start toddling around, Jay (and eventually his siblings) often accompanied their parents to the park, at least until they were old enough for the Intercept public school system. After that, the park was strictly for weekends—and after all their homework was done, of course. If his parents were ever strict, Jay suspects it might’ve been for his own benefit. They were only trying to raise successful children.
Jay spent his entire childhood imagining he’d be just like his parents, settling down roots in Intercept and finding steady, reliable work at the park. He then spent his entire adolescence watching that plan fall to pieces as Intercept seemed to vanish from the map in real time. He’d listen to his parents’ hushed voices as they worried over hours and bills and the prospect of the park shutting down once they thought the kids were asleep. It hardly seemed a possibility to Jay. He couldn’t imagine a world without Adventureland and yet, the possibility loomed closer on the horizon with each day that passed. The year that Jay graduated high school was the year that Adventureland closed its gates for the winter and rebranded to Astroland—a last ditch effort to save the park so it didn’t have to shut down for good. As much as Jay resented the gimmicky paint job and artificial rebranding, he was grateful. Adventureland wasn’t closing, it was just changing. They weren’t going to lose it.
Instead, the Osorios lost something far worse. Jay’s younger brother Hector was only sixteen that summer and they both worked the games booth together four nights a week. One Thursday in late June, Hector got into an argument with one of the park guests that left him agitated and he asked Jay if he could borrow the keys to the car. Jay should’ve said no. In hindsight, he wishes he had. Every goddamn day, in fact. But Hector had just gotten his license and Jay could understand well what it felt like to just want to drive to clear your head. He’d done it countless times. So he said yes, told Hector he’d cover for him if the bosses asked, and Hector promised he’d come back when the park closed to pick Jay up. That was the last conversation Jay ever had with his younger brother. Hector never came to pick him up. He never came home.
The local police department called him a runaway. They didn’t take the Osorios seriously when they tried to report Hector as a missing person, and if they said they’d look into it, Jay didn’t believe them for a damn second. He spent all of his savings on another car just so he could look for Hector himself. He went out every chance he could, driving further and further each time, but it was no use. He was just gone. Almost a year later, the car that Hector took showed up in a ditch two counties over. It wasn’t wrecked—there wasn’t a scratch on it, in fact, almost as if the car had been plucked straight from the road and placed there—but there was no sign of Hector. The sheriff said he must’ve run out of gas and hitchhiked. Kids were trying to get out of Intercept all the time. Jay drove out with a friend and a few gallons of gas later to pick up the car and drive it back home. The tank was almost full.
It’s been nearly fifteen years and Jay still doesn’t have answers. His parents have left Hector’s room exactly the way it was in their family home, almost as if they expect him to come walking back through the door at any minute with a reasonable explanation for where he’s been. There isn’t one. And the one thing Jay does know without a doubt? Hector’s not coming home. He stopped working at Astroland for several years after Hector disappeared; instead, he picked up the first gig he could find and started bartending at Wolfe’s Den six nights a week. Sometimes a full seven—but only if it was a bad week and he needed a distraction, something to throw himself into. Even if the rest of the town died out and closed down, the local dive bar would still be in business. It was his most reliable unreliable option, and after a while, he even settled into it.
But Jay’s learned the universe very seldom gives him his way. In fact, it seems to delight in doing the exact opposite. His mother stopped working at Astroland when he did. Just like Jay, she couldn’t bring herself to go back. Up until a few years ago, his father remained the breadwinner of the family, but when he hurt his back on the job, Jay had no choice but to pick up a second job to help support them both. And, of course, there was one place he knew would hire him. He works security now that he’s back at Astroland—day shift, so he can be off in time to clock in at Wolfe’s Den. The memory of his brother and the countless unanswered questions he has about what happened to him still dig at Jay, but he’s learned to let it go. He has to. He doesn’t have time to go hunting for a ghost anymore.
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