Come Alive

ASK Marisol Sangre | 26 | Paramedic. Hello, I'm Marisol. Patience is a virtue. "One by land, two by sea. Right there in front of me. Help is on the way."

[sangre-marisol]

I'm still here, too, promise! 

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Welcome to the Funhouse || Marisol & Arden

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"Small," Arden said. "Very small. They’re space-savers in Japan, for real. I don’t know if the word ‘suite’ exists in Japanese, or what one would look like if it does. They do have hotels where you can just put your things in lockers and sleep in a horizontal tube, you know." He smiled at her laugh. It was a lovely sound. "Born in Mexico, really? And you still visit? That’s so exciting! Coming to a foreign country at such a volatile age is intense; leaving friends and your own home country behind. Did you know much English then?" He looked around the elevator. "What a culture shock."

’I do kind of super dig pocket protectors.' At her teasing tone, Arden bit his tongue, but found the breath stolen from him as she tugged his tie again. “You won't be disappointed for a lack of them, then,” he said, with a wink.

"I do! It’s easy enough. We can help each other. I confess I’d hate to screw up your clothes, though," he answered, relaxing against the wall as the elevator drifted downward. "I haven’t seen that one. I watched La Patrona, though. It was about a female gold miner and she was gorgeous and smart and cool.”

Arden stepped closer to Marisol in the elevator. “Those sound like adjectives that describe you, a li’l bit, don’t they?” He took one of her hands— hands that were constantly twitching, fidgeting, pulling, stressing— in his and played with the collar of her sweater, his fingers brushing her neck.

[sangre-marisol]

Marisol's eyes widened. "Horizontal tubes? No rooms, or anything? I'd think that would be awful! No privacy, no bathrooms. I don't know if I could stay anywhere that compact," she giggled, shaking her head. "I don't need much room, but I definitely need a little more than just a tube and locker." At the mention of her homeland, her small grin grew. "Typically during the summer, for a few weeks. Oh, it was incredibly difficult. I wasn't too fond of it at first, but it wasn't so bad after a while. I'd taken English classes in school, so I'd been decently fluent, but I had a lot of catching up to do."

'You won't be disappointed for a lack of them, then.' She swallowed, nails grazing her sweater anxiously. Arden's playful tone and handsome face made her mouth run dry. "And the good news continues," she countered, clearing her throat lightly.

"Oh, no, not my clothes; you should definitely bring your own. As nice as you are, I wouldn't even allow Donatella Versace near my clothing with scissors," she laughed, attempting to recover herself. She latched on to the topic of telenovelas, something she knew she could speak about endlessly. "La Patrona! My brother has the biggest crush on Gabriela Suárez. She's very cool," she agreed, choosing to keep her chatter to herself.

The space between them grew smaller as Arden stepped in closer. Marisol's heartbeat escalated rapidly; her date's large hand taking one of her own, the twitching slowing to a stop. "Are you sure we're still talking about me?" she joked, tone low and soft. The fingers at her neck sent jolts of electricity dancing across her skin, sending warm shivers down her spine. Her free hand took firm hold of his tie for the third time as she reeled him in closer, drawing him down to her level. 

[tennesseexarcher-blog]

eve emergency • tennessee & marisol

[tennesseexarcher-blog]

Friends. “I—” His mind immediately went to Maddy, his roommate, and the worried look on her face when he had dashed out of their apartment—then to Timothy, his friend (okay, crush). “I’d rather not,” he muttered, turning the phone over and over in his hands. Maddy would’ve probably gone to sleep by now, and only God knew what Tim was up to at this hour. He didn’t want to be a bother.

The woman looked worried that he had no one to call for moral support. Tennessee had half a mind to tell her that it had always been like this, he was used to it, and he was totally okay with it. He didn’t need anyone to feel bad for him; he didn’t need pity, however well-intentioned it may have been. The kind-hearted brunette’s words were born out of sympathy, not pity, yet there was no way for the boy to realize it.

Kept overnight. Waiting was the worst part, he mused, staring down at his hands as she spoke. “Is there like a place f’r that here? Stayin’ overnight, I mean.” Despite the unpleasant taste in his mouth, Tennessee wanted to stick around. Would he have to sleep in one of the waiting rooms, then? If not, he would come back in the morning. He needed to go over to his grandparents’ place and check on Abuelita. Either way, this was not how he’d imagined this Christmas to go. 

[sangre-marisol]

'I'd rather not.' Curious as Marisol was, she left her questions of company be. Badgering an already anxious individual was an excellent way to ensure their distrust and annoyance. For everything her new acquaintance had dealt with within the hour, she did not wish to be a further source of stress. She offered a silent nod, the wheels in her mind turning.

Although she ached for Tennessee’s situation, she knew it would do him very little good. She wanted nothing more than to console and comfort him through this waiting period, though action often spoke louder than words. All the reassurances in the world could not ease a trouble mind.

Marisol turned to him once more, regarding him with a soft gaze. “You’re welcome to stay here in the waiting room,” she poke, gesturing around the expansive room. “Or,” she began, tone slow and earnest, “I could ask the doctor involved with your grandfather’s examination if he’s well enough to receive visitors. If he is, you’d be allowed to spend the night in his room with him. Whichever is most comfortable for you.” Marisol sincerely hoped the options might soothe him. It certainly made her feel lighter knowing he might have someone he loved with him.

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Welcome to the Funhouse || Marisol & Arden

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Arden beamed and folded his arms behind his back. “That’d be swell,” he said, with a wink. “Let me know, won’t you? I like fruit best, but I’ve got a wicked gluten allergy.”

‘What was it like in Japan?' They waited for the elevator, and Arden buzzed with enthusiasm. “I didn't get to see much of the land; like most of my dives, I tend to stick to the ocean and then head home. I did eat there, though, and stay in a hotel there. I had to camp in Egypt; Japan was more forgiving. The prefect was beautiful, and the people were kind.” He hummed. “They do have their share of bizarre trinkets in the stores. I like them. Have you ever been anywhere outside the country?”

He laughed at her compliment. “Thank you. You think so? Five times a week, at least. You may be seeing quite a little bit of them. Scientists unfortunately have the lousiest dress code, unless you super dig pocket protectors.”

‘Captain Arden Sparrow.' He shook his head and grinned as the elevator slid open and he stepped inside. It was not the first time he'd been nicknamed a pirate. “Hey! I upcycle, too; old furniture and stuff, though, not so much my clothes. An old bookshelf started to fall apart a bit, so I tampered with it and now I use it to hold my cleaning supplies.” The door shut, and he laughed again as he pressed the floor button. “Telenovelas? Do you have a favorite? I watched a couple in my free time when I was taking Spanish.”

The longer he talked to Marisol, the harder he smiled. She was obsessively adorable.

[sangre-marisol]

'Let me know, won’t you? I like fruit best, but I’ve got a wicked gluten allergy.' Marisol smiled. “You’ll be the first,” she spoke, creating a mental note of her date’s gluten allergy and preference of fruit. It was a fine excuse to try her hand at a new recipe, and a better excuse to see him another time. Marisol hoped, if all went well, that there might be another time to see him again anyways.

She listened attentively as Arden recounted his time in Japan, eyes wide with interest. “What were the hotels like? I hear they’re incredibly ornate and high tech. Much different than a tent in Egypt, I’d imagine,” she laughed softly. “But no less fun, I’d gather, either. More than a pirate, I’d say you’re a regular Indiana Jones.” At the question of her own travels, her fingers twitched atop her sweater. “I was born in Mexico City. We moved to Virginia when I was thirteen; we visit once or twice a year to see family, but that’s the extent of it.”

She grinned, offering her own wink. “I do kind of super dig pocket protectors,” she teased, reaching a playful hand out once more to tug briefly at the bottom of his tie. Her hand retuned to her chest, arms folded. The elevator doors slid open beside them just in time to ease her impatient mind; stepping inside with a relieved inner sigh.

"You upcycle, too?" she asked, genuinely surprised. "That’s amazing! I don’t have the craftsmanship to work with furniture. I’d love to help sometime, though," she offered, leaning once again against the elevator’s rail. An embarrassing embarrassing excitement shone through at the mention of her favorite passtime. "’La Que No Podia Amor.' It's a kind of a 'Beauty and the Beast' type of story,” she explained. “It's complicated to explain, but it's a fun one.”

[brenna-jackson]

accidental catch-up | marisol & brenna

[brenna-jackson]

Brenna felt bad for complaining about her pregnancy to Marisol.  She did love having children.  She felt so connected to them and it was wonderful, but at the same time she felt huge.  It was next to impossible for her to get comfortable in bed so she could sleep.  With Grace it hadn’t been as hard, but there had only been one baby.  She had been much smaller.  Everything was easier with one baby.  This hadn’t been planned either, so it made things complicated.  Brenna and Henry had talked about a second child shortly before he was diagnosed with his heart condition, but once they found out they decided to wait until after he recovered from surgery.  Fate just had different plans for them.  “It’s just impossible to get comfortable when I try to sleep.  You’d think you’d get used to it, but you really don’t.”

She nodded at the mention of family.  It was a huge help having Henry there and able to give her medical insight into things.  Of course there were just some medical things she didn’t want to share with her husband.  It would make things awkward, but that was why she had an OBGYN too.  Henry couldn’t possibly know everything that she would need throughout the course of her pregnancy.  He could learn it, of course, but she also knew that wasn’t his job.  “It’s definitely a huge help,” she replied with a slight nod.

“Oh I haven’t been doing much,” she replied with a slight chuckle.  “Just getting ready for the twins.”  Brenna was doing a lot of things around the house to make sure that everything was ready for when the twins came and life became that much more hectic for them.  Overall, it was fairly boring and she didn’t think it would be worth telling Marisol much about those things.  “My family is decent sized.  I have two siblings and my brother has three sons,” she explained.  Everyone came over because everyone still lived in Alexandria.  Staying close to home did have its advantages.  After all, she and Henry had met here when they were kids.  Why would they want to leave a place that had so many memories?  She couldn’t even think of a reason why she would want to do something like that.

However, when Marisol brought up walking and talking, Brenna nodded.  She had everything she needed.  Unfortunately it seemed as though Grace would be getting that Christmas bear but she could think of worse things her daughter could have gotten attached to.  If she tried taking it away now it would only end in a temper tantrum.  That was best to be avoided while in the middle of the store.  “I’ve got everything I need,” she told Marisol.  “Walking and talking seems fine.”  She hadn’t made a list and mentally wracked her brain to try and figure out if she was missing anything she had needed.  Her gaze fell to the cart quickly as she looked over the contents.  Everything she needed looked like it was there.  Clearly there was no point in wasting any more time, especially if Marisol had somewhere to be.

[sangre-marisol]

'It’s just impossible to get comfortable when I try to sleep. You’d think you’d get used to it, but you really don’t.' As Marisol wheeled her cart forward down the aisle, careful to leave enough room for Brenna and her own, she offered a nod and a sympathetic smile. "You should try for a maternity belt, if you haven't already! They're incredibly helpful, especially during your final trimester. Pillows are a God-send, too. Between your knees, under your belly, beneath your back - anywhere and everywhere you might need the support, they're such a help."

Marisol admired the other woman; preparing for twins had to be a great strain and incredibly time consuming. "I can't imagine that's been too easy," she replied, glancing to her new friend. "I had to constantly be on the move while I was on maternity leave. Cleaning the apartment, visiting family, crafts; sitting still was not an option," a light laugh left her, lifting her saddened spirits somewhat. She listened carefully as Brenna spoke of her family, glad to hear about her support system. "That's fun! Does your other sibling have any children? Or, do you have any cousins?"

Thankfully, it seemed, through the holiday rush, that the register lines weren't too terribly long. Marisol directed her cart into a lane with three people ahead of her, waving for Brenna to follow suit. "Looks like we picked the luckiest day to go shopping," she observed with a grin. Glancing back, she spotted Brenna's little girl with her teddy bear; it warmed her heart to know what a wonderful mother the redhead was.

Eyes grazing back to her own cart, they skimmed the food items within the cart. Curiously, she turned back to the other woman. "What is it your family usually makes for Christmas dinner? I think my mother is trying to shake things up and try something new and I've been looking for a new dish for a few weeks now."

[tennesseexarcher-blog]

eve emergency • tennessee & marisol

[tennesseexarcher-blog]

Tennessee shook his head at the woman’s question (come to think of it, he didn’t even know her name).  ”Naw, there ain’t no one else,” he muttered. He was the only family—the only living family—they had. Their daughter, his mother, had passed away years ago. Thinking about Momma made him feel like shit again (his fault, he was the problem, he’d done everything wrong). Maybe his grandparents hated his fucking guts for her death but were exceptionally good at hiding it, he mused gloomily. Abuelita’s distressed voice echoed in his eardrums even after the phone call ended. He hoped she would feel better soon.

He didn’t like hospitals. It was where grim words and desperation prevailed; where he ended up with bruises and homophobic slurs scratched into his brain; where he had watched, arms falling helplessly to his sides, as the doctor pronounced his mom dead. Tenn sniffled again, absentmindedly picking at the empty water cup.

"M’fine," was the boy’s stiff, immediate response, and a pathetically obvious lie as well. What else could he say, though? He wasn’t about to spill his entire fucking sob story to some stranger, regardless of how (seemingly) nice they were. Now that he’d calmed down somewhat, his defense mechanism of denial was building itself up again. "When’s he comin’ out?"

[sangre-marisol]

Marisol's heart sank within her chest. She counted herself incredibly blessed to have such a large family, and always felt a pang of guilt and sorrow for those with few to no other relatives. Someone as young as Tennessee appeared handling a hospital encounter on his own - her heart bled for his situation. "Do you have any friends that you might be able to call?"

She held no qualms in waiting with him. Her son, Angel, was with his father for the holiday season; spending a late night at work would be of little to no consequence. Selfishly, however, she supposed it meant less of a lonely night for her, as well.

'M’fine. When’s he comin’ out?' Marisol craned her neck to the nurses' station and the hallways beyond. "Patient's who acquire concussions are typically kept overnight for observation," she explained. "In elderly patient's it can be incredibly helpful and essential to hold them over for monitoring. If everything checks out by morning, and it will, he'll be able to sign out then." Shifting back to face her new acquaintance, she tilted her head to the side. "Would you like to wait here over night until then? Or, maybe come back in the morning?"

[becausepine-blog]

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Welcome to the Funhouse || Marisol & Arden

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‘Oh, yeah, they’re very big in my family. Most Mexican families; it’s a tradition. Homemade tamales are better than any store bought, American made tamales. We make them by the box-full every December. We donate most of them to local shelters and churches and keep the rest for ourselves.' Arden rose up on the balls of his foot, to match his rocketing eyebrows. “You make that many?” he said, eagerly. “I'd love to be on the receiving end of one of those tamales someday. Mexican food is my favorite; I'd love to have some done right.”

He watched her carefully as her fingers and arms shifted and raced about her body like spiders on a fresh-spun web. Marisol’s mood was slowly dissolving, and he couldn’t quite discern why. It was up to him to fix it, though; Arden beamed and swept the door open. “No? This should be extra fun for you, then, I’m sure.” As he led her back down the hall, he said with a shrug, “I have to say, I love nigirizushi. I tried it for the first time when I went to Japan and I haven’t had better in America. I can’t eat octopus, though, salmon or eel are tops. What about you?” 

The elevator was open as they reached it, but shut before they got close enough to enter it. Arden snorted and jammed the “DOWN” button with some urgency. He glanced over at Marisol and eyed her playfully. “You look beautiful, by the way,” he said. “I don’t think I said that so much, yet.”

Beneath his hand, the elevator buzzed and rumbled behind the wall. “So, I collect bones; in my free time,” he said, casually. “I also collect old jewelry. Really, anything you can find on a pirate ship. What about you? Any hobbies?”

[sangre-marisol]

'You make that many? I'd love to be on the receiving end of one of those tamales someday. Mexican food is my favorite; I'd love to have some done right.' Marisol nodded, thoughts drifting to the massive kitchen in her parent’s home and the complete brilliant chaos of their tamale making activities. “Oh, definitely. By the box load, usually; they’re typically always made in mind to give away. Let me know what kind you like,” her mouth twitched upwards, “and I’ll swing by with a few for you.”

Her eyes went wide once more, though she couldn’t honestly count herself too far surprised. Arden’s travels were vast and countless; hearing about his adventures, however, was something she could never tire of. “Nigirizushi is delicious,” she agreed, her small smile growing. So, she thought, maybe he isn’t too upset after all. “What was it like in Japan? I mean,” she corrected, her fingers ticking against her sweater, “how was it being there?”

The approach of the elevator took her by surprise, having been stuck within her thoughts. She squared her shoulders back as Arden pressed the call button; coaxing herself back to focus. 'You look beautiful, by the way. I don’t think I said that so much, yet.' Redness crawled up her neck to paint her cheeks. She leaned her hip against the metal frame of the elevator, arms loosening themselves at her chest. He wasn’t mad. She could relax. “Thank you,” she spoke, quietly. “You look handsome yourself. Ties really do it for you, you know.”

"You really are a regular old pirate," Marisol chuckled, resting her head back against the same metal frame. "Captain Arden Sparrow." Her own hobbies were much less exciting, though she enjoyed them all the same. "Oh, I upcycle," she answered, "which is recycling old clothes by making them in to new clothes. I have my guilty pleasures, too," she grinned, her cheeks growing red once more. "I love telenovelas. As cheesy as they are, it’s so easy to get sucked in."

[brenna-jackson]

accidental catch-up | marisol & brenna

[brenna-jackson]

The laugh that fell from Brenna’s lips was unintentional, but genuine.  She was slightly nervous about becoming a mother of three overnight.  She was even more nervous about the fact that she was having two sons.  As if they somehow sensed her anxiety, Brenna felt them kicking so she pressed her palm into her belly in a poor attempt to sooth them.  “We’re very excited but it is a little overwhelming,” she admitted.  Considering they hadn’t even been trying for a second child the pregnancy alone was a shock.  The fact that it was twins merely multiplied that surprise.  “I am due in February.  I honestly can’t wait to have them.  I thought being pregnant with Grace was miserable.  This is so much worse.”  She was constantly struggling to get any sleep since she couldn’t get comfortable in the bed.  Her ankles swelled and her back hurt.  Grace had been an easy pregnancy, this was a nightmare.”

It seemed that Marisol’s family could understand her medical jargon in a way that Brenna couldn’t for Henry.  Sometimes she felt bad for not understanding what he had been talking about, but there was only so much she could do.  “Having Henry around definitely has helped,” Brenna replied.  He made it easier to figure some of the minor things out.  “I think he read everything he could get his hands on about pregnancy when he shouldn’t have.  It just makes him worry.”  She could remember how he worried about even the smallest things when she was pregnant with Grace.  He’d calmed down some, but carrying twins gave him a whole new set of things to worry about.

Brenna nodded in response to the comments about Grace.  The little girl was a fantastic helper.  “Yes, it’s been really nice to have some time to get her ready for the new arrivals.”  Just spending some time as a family was a good thing that Brenna truly enjoyed, if she was being honest with herself.  She loved it.  There were a lot of things that Brenna loved.  That was only one of them.  Another was hearing things that were good for other people, so hearing about Marisol’s plans for Christmas definitely put a smile on her face.  “Well it seems like you’ll have a lot of fun,” Brenna told her.  “It’s always great when you can get together with your family for the holidays.  It just makes everything seem more cheerful.”

[sangre-marisol]

'We’re very excited but it is a little overwhelming.' Marisol nodded in understanding. A normal pregnancy had the potential to be incredibly overwhelming; twins, she imagined, were much more so. 'I am due in February. I honestly can’t wait to have them. I thought being pregnant with Grace was miserable. This is so much worse.' A second sympathetic smile plastered itself to her lips whilst she listened, twitching at the corners of her mouth. "Oh, I completely understand, it certainly can be an overwhelming progress. How are you handling it? I'm so sorry to hear that it's been difficult for you, though. Angel was such an easy pregnancy, I definitely got lucky."

Though miserable as a pregnancy could be, Marisol counted Brenna undoubtedly lucky for the involvement of her husband. Not every woman was fortunate enough to have a loving partner, nor medical access; it warmed her heart to hear it from her new friend. She laughed lightly. "A worried husband is better than nothing, I'd say. It's so nice to hear that he's that committed to helping you and learning about the process! Having your own personal medical professional is incredibly beneficial. I know having my mother around when I was with Angel was such a help," she recalled.

"What else have you been doing with your time off?" she asked, head tilted to the side. Her own maternity leave had been full of upcycling in mass amounts and long television marathons. Cheerful, she thought sadly, attempting not to crack her happy facade. Not this Christmas. "Do you have a big family yourself or do you usually keep the gatherings small? I know not every family has the chance to be together all at once."

Marisol's eyes cast themselves briefly towards the direction of the registers; her small list crossed off on the pad sitting inside of the cart. "Speaking of family, though, I'm actually supposed to meet with my mother in a little bit. Can we walk and talk?" she asked with a smile. "If you're finished, that is! I don't mean to rush you or anything," she quickly added, chuckling softly.

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Welcome to the Funhouse || Marisol & Arden

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‘I can’t imagine they’d let you dive alone. It sounds dangerous enough as it is.' Arden grinned. “Boy, I've got stories for you,” he chuckled. “It's not all that dangerous, though, or they wouldn't let us do it. We play it safe.”

Memories of whales, large as semi-trucks and moving vans coasting by him in the semidarkness, his fingers brushing their smooth bodies as they circled and disappeared again bobbed briefly to the surface and then sank back down to the depths. He loved the ocean, and all that it had to offer and had offered him thus far. 

"I told you! I told you, you’re not. Let’s go. Japanese, it is.” Arden started to pull away, but Marisol’s fingers around his tie stopped him inexplicably. He hung back and stared at her, biting his bottom lip and swallowing hard. So she was having a good time. 

"Yeah— yeah— yes. I’m ready." He was unable to contain his grin or tear his eyes from hers as he stepped back, fingering his tie and hefting the heavy door open. "Señorita," he said, stepping back and tilting his head forward, almost comically. "What was that I heard about tamales? Homemade have to be to die for."

[sangre-marisol]

"Oh, I'm sure that you do," Marisol laughed lightly. She was incredibly convinced Arden held a library's worth of stories to share about his adventures; and for that, she envied him. Traveling the world, exploring vast waters, hunting for treasures and artifacts - he was living a dream. "I'd like to hear them, sometime." There were very few acceptable career related stories of her own to share; medical tales far less interesting and entertaining than most.

'I told you! I told you, you’re not. Let’s go. Japanese, it is.' A small frown settled at the edges of her lips. Way to go, she chided herself inwardly, you upset him. Stop being so obnoxious. Don't be so insecure. You look desperate. Marisol released his tie from her fingers with a nod and ducked under his arm as she left the room. Her arms folded tightly across her chest in their previous position, shoulders straight and eyes low. Her fingers twitched against her sweater.

She cleared her throat, twitching the corners of her mouth back up into a smile. Don't ruin it, she berated again. It was going so well. "Oh, yeah, they're very big in my family. Most Mexican families; it's a tradition. Homemade tamales are better than any store bought, American made tamales. We make them by the box-full every December," she recounted. "We donate most of them to local shelters and churches and keep the rest for ourselves."

"I don't eat out very often," she continued with a small laugh. "So it's very rare that I have anything that isn't covered in spices and peppers. What's your favorite food dish?" she asked, lifting her gaze from the floor to glance his way. His previous reaction had turned her excitement into anxiety, and she only hoped that he wasn't too annoyed with her.

[ardenfinnegan-deactivated201606]

Welcome to the Funhouse || Marisol & Arden

[ardenfinnegan-deactivated201606]

Arden listened to her attentively, his smile broad, his eyes bright. “Our families are both somethin’ special, then, huh? Buuut—” His gaze flickered briefly up and down her, and around the labs. “I don’t think we’re here to quiz each other about them. It’s you, I really want to know.” With a single long stride, he stepped closer to her, still smiling from ear to ear. 

The labs were a mountain of the evidence of his life’s work, but not any evidence of what he was elsewise. Arden nodded her toward the door. “The oceans are phenomenal from every angle, but I’m glad I rarely dive alone. What would such beauty be when there’s no one to share it with?” He felt his grin getting more and more sheepish by the moment, but he didn’t care.

'I don't want to pull you away from anything important, though. I don't want you in any trouble.' Arden laughed. “Forget him, honestly. I’m off right now. I didn’t have much to do today, anyway. Come on, I know one of the best Japanese restaurants in D.C.; do you like seafood?”

He was leaned up awfully close to Marisol, watching her keenly while he played with the barren coffee cup in his hand. 

[sangre-marisol]

'It’s you, I really want to know.' Marisol's grin grew wide. Arden took a step closer and she stayed rooted to the floor; blue eyes checking him over briefly. Though she adored her family, and while his own sounded wonderful, Arden's point rang true. "There's plenty of time for that later," she agreed, clearing her throat quietly. Over-sharing information could be just as obnoxious as under-sharing; especially with the wrong subjects at the wrong time.

Her heel clad feet uprooted themselves upon Arden's nod in the door's direction. She took several steps forward, listening intently all the while. "I can't imagine they'd let you dive alone," she shook her head, arms tight across her chest. "It sounds dangerous enough as it is. Beautiful," she assured, offering a second smile, "but definitely high risk." The sheepishness of her date's smile caused her own to grow; God, he was handsome. Her fingers twitched on her arms.

Marisol cast a glance in Nate's direction, a slight feeling of guilt in her stomach. She hadn't meant to disturb his work or tear his partner from him during a work day. Arden's reassurance made her feel only slightly less terrible. "As long as I'm not pulling you away from anything important." With great effort, she shoved the remorse aside and focused on the question at hand. "Oh, I love seafood," she answered, tone lighter. "I haven't had Japanese in years. Sushi would definitely be a nice reprieve from all of the holiday tamales."

As she neared the door, Arden stepped ever closer; adrenaline flushing through her system. With her lower lip caught between her teeth, she reached a hand out to tug playfully at the tie hanging from his neck. "Are you ready to go, then?" she asked amorously, eyes traveling from her date to the door.

[tennesseexarcher-blog]

eve emergency • tennessee & marisol

[tennesseexarcher-blog]

Red eyes stared up at the woman, then at the cup in her hands. He hesitantly reached out to take it from her. “Thanks,” he mumbled in a low, watery voice, and took a grateful sip. She was one of the nicest people he’d ever encountered. Tennessee felt bad for troubling her; he should have controlled himself better. He could feel people’s judgmental eyes on him—which was far from the truth (he was in a hospital, after all), but the boy was too wrapped up in self-deprecation to see it.

The cold water traveling down his throat was like a wake-up call. Focus, he silently chastised himself, and tightened his grip on the couch fabric under his hands. He sniffled again. “No sé,” he said after a beat, a bit confused as to why she was speaking Spanish to him. “I ain’t sure if she’s okay ‘nough to drive.” That reminded him, he had to let Abuelita know what Granddad’s condition was. He fished out his phone to call his grandparents’ house. The situation was explained, concerns expressed, and reassurances uttered, his voice still possessing a teary, anxious edge from the panic attack. Tenn took another gulp of water once the phone call was finished. Now he just had to wait.

"I hate this place," he mumbled darkly, shooting watery glares at nothing in particular.

[sangre-marisol]

'I ain’t sure if she’s okay ‘nough to drive.' A valid concern, she thought. When Marisol had spoken to the woman, she had appeared shaken up, like most frightened by-standing individuals around a team of paramedics during a scare. "Are there any other available relatives? Or are you the closest next of kin?" Genuine worry lined Marisol's face; she certainly hoped someone so young wouldn't have to experience such a daunting situation alone.

She shifted a fraction as Tennessee foraged for his cell phone, offering a slight bit more distance. Crowding a post-panicked person was just as potentially triggering as smothering them. She listened carefully whilst he explained the situation; the anxiety in his tone further cracking her heart. With water in hand, at least, she was sure calm would soon become controlled.

As his call ended and he regarded her once more, Marisol nodded her agreement. "I don't know too many people who actually like hospitals," she drawled, voice soft. "Unless you work here, of course. Our jobs are to make sure you don't have to worry any more than necessary. It can be unfortunate," she pursed her lips, aiming a gentle smile in his direction, "but, in cases like yours, the outcome will be fortunate. How are you feeling, Tennessee?"

[fuckyeah-char-dev]

ISFJ: the Defender

ISFJs are traditional, loyal, quiet and kind. They are very sensitive to other people’s needs because they are very observant. They have rich inner thoughts and emotions. They value stability and cultural norms. They are very adept at giving attention to detail. They do not seek positions of authority.

STRENGTHS

Warm, friendly and affirming by nature.

Service-oriented, wanting to please others.

Good listeners.

Will put forth lots of effort to fulfill their duties and obligations.

Excellent organisational capabilities.

Good at taking care of practical matters and daily needs.

Usually good (albeit conservative) at handling money.

Take their commitments seriously, and seek lifelong relationships.

WEAKNESSES

Don’t pay enough attention to their own needs.

May have difficulty branching out into new territory.

Extreme dislike of conflict and criticism.

Unlikely to express their needs, which may cause pent-up frustrations to build inside.

Have difficulty leaving a bad relationship.

Have difficulty moving on after the end of a relationship.

Read More

[ardenfinnegan-deactivated201606]

Welcome to the Funhouse || Marisol & Arden

[ardenfinnegan-deactivated201606]

'I'm one of five children; one of three sisters. You mentioned at the theater that you had siblings, right?'

Arden buzzed and beamed. “You and me both!” he said, enthusiastically. “Three brothers, one sister, though. Nora, she’s the oldest; a dancer. If your sister’s an artist, they might get along. Riordan is the youngest, and he’s a bit like you, he likes to help people.” He swallowed back a, He didn’t get to go to school, though, and went on, “My dad’s a fisherman— surprise, surprise, everyone in Destin is— and ma’s a city councilwoman.” He loved his family, and took great pride in them. Something told him Marisol was more hesitant to share in her private life, though. He toned it back. “What about your other sister, and brothers? Are they so free spirited, too, or are they more like you?”

Marisol’s interest in his work only set Arden even higher. “A good number,” he said, eagerly. “Parts of the whale, up there. We don’t carry live things on the stairs; the coral came in on the elevator. Some stay here, some don’t. It depends on what we’re allowed to keep, what the species is, if it’s an animal or a plant or a mineral; fossils are very exciting, we don’t get to keep many of them.”

'I still can't believe you get to travel all over the world like this, it's spectacular.' Arden bit his lower lip and blushed. “I mostly only see the oceans on the country edges,” he said, trying and failing to sound humble. “I rarely head in to look around.”  At her coral question, he laughed. “Honestly, nothing. It resembles something quite similar to a species found off the coast a year ago. If we can chip a bit off and compare the two, it’s basically a house plant.”

‘I’d like to see ‘elsewhere’, if you have the time today.' Arden was gripping a cup of coffee, and he tipped it to his lips just then to give his lower jaw something to do. “I definitely do,” he said, briskly, pulling the empty cup away and refilling it immediately. “I do. Totally. Lunch? I know a few great places that aren't a cafeteria around here.”

[sangre-marisol]

'You and me both!' Marisol's brows rose in pleasant surprise, she'd known he'd had siblings, though not as many as she did. Big families were a rare occurrence, she'd found, and the more the merrier made her happier. Nora, the dancer; she was sure Carmen would latch tightly to her; Riordan, the helper; someone she was sure she could bond with. His parents, however, caught her attention far more. "Oh, wow, a city councilwoman, that's incredible! And a fisherman, too; nothing not to be proud of."

'What about your other sister, and brothers? Are they so free spirited, too, or are they more like you?' Her fingers twitched whilst she shifted weight to her other foot. "Alejandra's a kindergarten teacher and Victoria works in the mayor's office. David's a musician, and, uh, Adrian does what he wants, same as Carmen." Her family was very large, very colorful, and incredibly busy; if not unique. "My mother's a doctor in D.C. and my father's a lawyer out there, too."

Excited eyes drew back up to the ceiling, studying the half-constructed whale as her date spoke. She couldn't imagine such a career of adventure; what he was able to see, to do, to be part of. Had they the time, she would've loved to hear every single one of his fascinating stories. "The oceans are worlds within themselves, you know. I think seeing just the edges is phenomenal in itself," she beamed.

How Arden wasn't a jittery mess of a man was beyond her; attention pulled from the creation above to the second cup of coffee being consumed. His eagerness painted her cheeks red. "Lunch would be great. I don't want to pull you away from anything important, though," she dropped her tone, glancing over her shoulder at Nate and his microscope. "I don't want you in any trouble." She chewed her lip. 

[tennesseexarcher-blog]

eve emergency • tennessee & marisol

[tennesseexarcher-blog]

In. Out. In. Out. His grandfather was going to be fine. Tennessee nodded slowly at her offer, not trusting his voice to stop trembling, and buried his face in his hands. Oh, this was fucking pathetic. He was pathetic. He had to stop. He needed to stop crying. He closed his eyes even tighter, a useless barricade against the oncoming rush of pent-up sorrows. He didn’t even know why he was crying anymore.

The situation was too familiar, striking close to home—because, for a mere nineteen-year-old, he knew the awful feeling of losing someone too well. He fucking hated it. He hated that it kept happening, again and again, first his father then Momma and now Granddad. Maybe this was some sort of punishment, like, the universe’s way of telling him that he was a bad person, that everything was his fault, because he was a stupid weak little good-for-nothing piece of trash with no guts—no, those were from Wyatt, but he’d heard the words so many times that he believed them to a degree. 

Fortunately, Tennessee was able to refrain himself from flinching like a cat when her hand moved to his neck. ”Okay,” he confirmed once more, looking up at the brunette, barely managing to release a shaky breath. Mortified, he angrily rubbed at his eyes as belated embarrassment flooded him. He couldn’t believe he’d allowed himself to break down like this. In public. He loathed himself so much at that moment, hatred and anguish burning in his veins like cold fire. He swallowed the urge to vomit.

[sangre-marisol]

"I'll be right back," she promised, catching his eye for a moment before moving to stand. Leaving a panicked individual to their own devices in the middle of an anxiety attack was typically frowned upon, though given the circumstance, she had very few options to pursue. Dehydration due to severe anxiety would only make her new acquaintance's difficult night much worse.

Across the room and to the left of the nurses' station sat a water cooler, thankfully desolate. Marisol quickly filled a styrofoam cup; weaving her way around several people on her journey back to the couch. "Here you go," she breathed gently, glancing him over. She settled once more beside Tennessee and held the cup out to him, hoping his restless hands would calm themselves with something to hold in them.

It broke her heart to see him so distressed. He reminded her greatly of her youngest brother, Adrian, and in that correlation she felt a sense of obligation to him. "If there's anything else that I can do for you, please don't hesitate to ask." She kept her hands to herself in her lap, unsure of whether her touch had been a sense of comfort or discontent for him. "I'll wait here with you. Será tu abuela a venir a reunirse con usted?"

[ardenfinnegan-deactivated201606]

Welcome to the Funhouse || Marisol & Arden

[ardenfinnegan-deactivated201606]

‘I always make time for the important things. And people.' Arden blushed. He hadn't felt or been thought of as important in quite some time; the feeling was overwhelming. “Let's hope not. What's your sister like, then?”

Arden stifled a yawn; he’d been up since five and something, and his back and head were giving out. “Ha. Often enough. We can’t always use the elevator, but we try to; most things are very fragile, very old. Crashing them up and down steps isn’t the safest thing for them.” It wasn’t the first time he’d been compared to a pirate. Arden loved history; loved archaeology. The ocean was home. Time was endless.

‘It’s beautiful in here.' Damn. Arden settled his gaze on Marisol with fresh perspective. Did she really like it? Did she? Could she? “I love it, too,” he replied, over-eagerly, heading for the coffeemaker. “This is where I do most of my day work. If we find artifacts or living specimens, we bring them here for study; mostly carbon dating, which is what Nate's doing now.” 

Nate listlessly pointed at the computer behind him, which was rapidly running thousands of numbers in a box on the desktop while he stared intently at a flat piece of rock encrusted with barnacles. Arden shook his head. 

"We found a ton of stuff in Peru. I’m interested in a coral species we discovered, although it wasn’t part of our objective. See there?" He pointed to a small tank on a far counter, where a vibrant purple hunk of coral was swaying gently in place. "We had to ask permission from the Peruvian ambassador to take it back with us. I’m excited."

Nate gave him another black look, and Arden made a humming sound as he pulled finished coffee from the machine, turning back to Marisol with a playful grin. “I do fun stuff elsewhere, too. You want some?”

[sangre-marisol]

'What's your sister like, then?' Marisol stifled a laugh. "Her name is Carmen, and she's, uh, very much a free spirited, artistic soul." It was the only polite way she knew how to describe her older sibling. "I'm one of five children; one of three sisters. You mentioned at the theater that you had siblings, right?" She was far more interested in hearing about his family than sharing of her own; at least, so soon.

Curiosity peaked as she listened to him speak. "I'd imagine it's also not the safest thing for you, either. Do you have anything in here that you've carried up the stairs?" she asked, eyes trailing their way around the room. It was stunning, the findings; even the smallest or plainest of objects were fascinating. "Living specimens? Do you keep them here, too, or is there a special place for them?"

Marisol tore her gaze from the half assembled whale skeleton hung from the ceiling to Nate at his station; then the computers, finally resting at the coral inside of a small tank across the room. "Oh, wow," she breathed. "Peru. I still can't believe you get to travel all over the world like this, it's spectacular." And absolutely gorgeous, she thought, crossing carefully to near the tank. She bent to have a closer look, watching the purple coral sway. "Permission from the ambassador, that's crazy! What are you planning to study with it?"

'I do fun stuff elsewhere, too. You want some?' Marisol straightened up from the tank, matching Arden's grin. "Do you? I'd like to see 'elsewhere', if you have the time today," she teased, before shaking her head. "Oh, no, I'm fine, thank you." There was already enough coffee in her system for the afternoon. Any more and she was afraid she would explode.

[brenna-jackson]

accidental catch-up | marisol & brenna

[brenna-jackson]

Hearing that little boys weren’t so bad was definitely reassuring for Brenna.  Aaron had three sons so she had that experience with her nephews but that wasn’t the same as having sons of her own.  “Well that’s good to know.”  In a few months she’d have two of them and that was an overwhelming thought, but she didn’t dwell on it.  They were making progress.  They moved into a bigger house in October and things were all settled in now.  All they needed to do was finish preparing Grace to become a big sister. 

“About seven months,” Brenna replied when Marisol asked how far along she was.  It was not long after the accident that Brenna got pregnant and now here she was.  In truth, she was surprised Henry hadn’t plastered the sex of the baby or the fact that it was twins all over the hospital.  He’d been through the roof when they had those ultrasounds, even if the twins were a big surprise.  “It’s twins actually,” Brenna explained with a soft smile.  “And they’re both boys.”  She chuckled then.  “I’m surprised Henry didn’t scream it from the hospital roof after we found out.”

Whenever Brenna thought about her boys or Grace she couldn’t help but smile.  Being a mother was one of the most important things in the world for her.  She loved her children and fiercely protected them.  The fact that she shared them with the love of her life just made things that much easier for her.  “I think that’s something the families of all medical professionals have in common,” Brenna commented about Marisol’s story.  Most people not involved in it couldn’t handle all the terms.  It was frustrating, even if having a doctor in the family did come in handy.

“We definitely will have our hands full next Christmas.  Thank God that my parents and Henry’s parents are both more than willing to help out.”  Henry’s sister didn’t have kids so their children were his parents’ only grandchildren.  That was a special bond and it made them more than willing to help out with the kids.  Brenna was more than grateful for that.  Once the twins were born they’d definitely need all the help they could get.  “It will be fun though.  I’ve been baking and Grace has been trying to help.”  How much help an eighteen month old could be with Christmas cookies was limited, but she still made an adorable mess of the frosting.  “We want to make it special for her since it’s her last Christmas as an only child.  I know she won’t remember much but still.”  She paused then added, “What about you, Marisol?  Do you have any big Christmas plans?”

[sangre-marisol]

'About seven months. It’s twins actually. And they’re both boys.' Marisol's face lit up at the news. "Twins, oh, how exciting for the both of you! And two boys - you'll definitely have your hands full, but I promise you'll adore every second of it." It had certainly been an experience handling a pregnancy with one child, she couldn't possibly imagine a pregnancy with two. "The wait isn't too long, there, either; seven months. You should be due in February, then, right? What a perfect set of Valentine's gifts."

It had been true, to an extent, with her siblings at least. "Well, my mother's a doctor in D.C., she works at the Providence Hospital. She understands my medical jargon and terms, but my father and siblings tend to tune it out and give us their disapproving looks. Having medical professionals in the family can definitely come in handy, though; I'm sure having Henry around has made things a little bit easier on you." It was a story she knew well, her siblings often came to she and her mother for their health advice and council.

"Oh, good! I'm sure that has to make things a little less stressful." Marisol had her own lucky stars to thank for the good terms she and William were on; his parents were incredibly helpful with Angel as well. Her smile grew wider as Brenna spoke of she and Grace's baking adventures. "I'm sure she's a perfect little helper," she laughed, adjusting her weight at the cart. "Having so much time off for maternity leave can be hard. With her around I'm sure it's been much more enjoyable for you. She might not remember everything, but bonding time is incredibly important."

'What about you, Marisol? Do you have any big Christmas plans?' A pang of sadness once more sank within her chest. Refusing to allow her sorrow show, however, she continued to put on a smile. "Of course! We're all, my siblings and cousins and I, going to my parents house for dinner and bonding time. There's about thirty or so of us, so it's always a production, but if we weren't busy and cramped, it wouldn't be the holidays."