this will never end.

" this will never end 'cause I want more. more, give me more. give me more. "

[silasxhale]

starter for: @jacobhartland​

      the difficulties of being officially unofficial. silas couldn’t blame anyone, really-- it wouldn’t have been too surprising if each person who knew his name thought his job was different from the next individual. i thought you went to school for psychology. didn’t you study engineering? yes, he did, and to be fair no one had been wrong, yet. still, the misconception often had the detriment of not being called for what he was available or had signed up for. so here he was, standing once again in parton general with a soft smile and a reminder on his lips he was available as a volunteer nurse, license still up-to-date, and eager to help as his mother did so long ago. perhaps the small town bent the rules to their own script, but most hospitals required at least seventy hours a year to be considered actively practicing in their system, and silas wanted to simply remind the facility, “ hey, i’m available. use the resources available to you. ”

      the walls that surrounded him were too familiar, well remembered for when he wasn’t supposed to interrupt his mother's work but then surprised her with a visit, for every concussion after a heavy football practice, for memories best kept in golden linings and barely touched lest they be tainted with present knowledge. as for familiar faces, he welcomed those, too, breaking away from his wait at the desk for a parton-renowned doctor hartland gracing his presence to the public, or at least passing through his busy work day. 

      “ look at him: conniving, planning murder disguised in a white coat and latex gloves. little does anyone know the man with a syringe meant to heal is scheming their demise behind their backs. how is it that you keep this job? ”

[silasxhale]

mayahirsch​:

starter for : @silasxhale​. location : outside of keep it movin’. event : parton fest.

After dancing like there was no tomorrow, Maya feels on top of the world. It wasn’t often that she let loose so easily. She was mostly the wallflower-type, opting to people watch rather than engage. But tonight, she tries to branch out, exploring depths of her desire and personality that have gone untouched for quite a while. And tonight, she wanted to dance, even if she couldn’t. She’s settle for flailing arms and stiff hips paired with the classic move of jumping up and down to the beat. It works for the time being, satisfying her ache for fun. 

And when she leaves the club to venture around the festival once more, she spots a familiar face. “Silas!” She calls out with a wide, beaming smile. Silas was someone she would consider a friend, though she’s unsure if that’s entirely true. Perhaps they were on the road to becoming friends. Maya pads through the crowd, making her way to the man. “Oh, oh, good thing I found you. I have to show you something.” Maya says, holding up her index finger, signaling for him to wait a moment. She turns around and reaches into her bag, plucking out two bottle caps that she saved for this exact moment. Maya carefully places them over her eyes before slowly turning around towards him again, “Get a load of this. Coke bottle eyes. Get it?”

-

      there was a beauty in haunting one’s work place when not at work, a sense of liminal space he enjoyed-- or perhaps just to make sure situations weren’t arising without his active presence.  but the risky nature of lingering in the in-between was hearing voices call his name without source. one should never answer but always look. the huff of relief escaped him too quickly as he saw maya bounding toward him, with a closed grin growing bigger across his face as he moved to help lessen the people and space between them. 

      “ fancy seeing you out here, ” he greeted, eyes following her excited movement. for a moment, the street was empty, or at least felt empty for the intrigue of what was so important to show him. of course, he never knew what to expect with maya and nor did he care to-- that was, that her spontaneity needn’t be marred with expectations or predictions of her person. it was purely her charm, and an aspect that felt close to home to silas that made his eyes smile as tightly as his lips as she produced the caps over her eyes.

      “ i get it, and i like it. this is the look, maya. you’re gonna have to make them into official glasses. they give you a wild-eye look: a little bit sporadic, a little bit intimidating. it suits you well, ” he commended. 

[silasxhale]

iraxevans​:

      location: parton festival - food stalls.       who: @silasxhale​

      ——“ TELL ME YOU see cotton candy somewhere. if there’s no cotton candy i’m going to outwardly do absolutely nothing about it, except maybe pout, but inwardly i will be rioting. how do you have a festival without cotton candy? ” comfort was always in the presence of his best friend - his other half. though ira had left parton 27 years ago he’d always been sure to keep his connection to silas intact. the internet had bloomed in college and aol instant messenger made it much easier to have tv show chats with his closest friend where they used to sit and do so shoulder-to-shoulder.

      blessedly silas had done what silas always seemed to do - be around at the right time, during crisis years before. ira still bore the scar across his forehead, slightly whiter than the otherwise pleasantly pink tone of his face, telling the tale of his significant concussion and time off from work thereafter. it had been a no-brainer that silas made friends with nyxie, that he continued to work on thesis papers and picked up odd jobs while he watched over ira’s recovery, as if he’d been there all along. if there was a true statement to be made in parton it was that ira evans loved and adored silas hale with every part of his being. they were best friends. they were brothers. and the glowing smile on his face presently told that tale avidly.

      their shoulders bumped as ira walked beside the taller of the two - and while his eyes scoured the stalls for what his heart wanted, his tone continued to lower - as if a reflection of his spirits. “ i’m starting to lose hope here. toss me an anchor. give me a sign. light the beacons. gondor calls for aid. help, théoden king. ”

-

      " riot if you need to. i swear we passed it and all we need is to find it again. we’re going to get you that sugar. ” and himself some funnel cake after, but the spun sugar floss took more precedence in the moment -- a selfish mindset of a silent and continued celebration silas held each time he saw the returned dutchman. whether ira knew he was constantly being invited to his own return party each time the two were in proximity to each other had yet to be seen; still, it was a private party, no need for fanfare or music to mark its perpetual festivities ( three months and counting )-- the festival simply provided that for them this time around.

      “ and rohan will answer, even if i had to spin the sugar myself. though i’m not sure if i’m the fire signal or théoden... or both. wait --  i see a neon, pink and fluffy cloud, aragorn. the fires are lit. ” he picked up a faster pace, a quirk to his brows as he turned to ira and walked backwards towards their destination of sugared comfort. comfort. parton had a way of being both expansive and stifling, familiar and alien. coming home when he had was so only in title -- little in feeling, absent in comfort. ira at his side was but an extension of himself made physical and talking back, a piece of home who provided room to breathe, the comfort he needed that silas had forgotten he was slowly suffocating months prior. to say it was nice to have his brother around again was a severe unappreciation for ira’s company he didn’t dare insult. so instead, a continuous celebration and silas beating him to the stall to order for the both of them was the easiest way to honor it... until the next opportunity arose. 

      “ cheers, ” he added, handing over the pink fluff on the paper cone-- no intention of indulging in his. “ oh, and we’re doubling back for funnel cake. it’s nice to see this place be all abuzz... and music’s not bad. the true question is if you are ready to go on every spinning ride ten times before we leave. ” or at least until one or the other called it a night, though silas had other intentions for that as well. for the past several years, there were few memories to look fondly on  --most were cherished ones of youth, never tainted but idolized with golden linings. even if ira’s intentions to stay were temporary ( and even if they spoke so frequently they could hardly be missed ) there could be many more to create, as blinding as the string lights hanging above them and the neon strobes dancing in the sky. “what do you say? will the gods of balance and constitution favor you tonight? ”

[maggiemacneil]

[iraxevans]

@silasxhale

[silasxhale]

parton festival attire, 02/05/2022.

[silasxhale]

silas hale

born and raised in parton, he is the only child of the hale family-- an eccentric and albeit mixed family of views. his mother was a part-time nurse, a woman who believed wholeheartedly in holistic and natural medicine in unison with western. she insisted on teaching her son both practices, while encouraging a full exploration of self and interests to better himself. his father was a strict “man’s man”, insistent that men needed to be tough, and emotionally hard. the weird amalgamation between the two was silas.

he was a quiet child who kept to himself, mostly, the kind that his father stuck in every school sports who awkwardly stood out on the field ( even though he was having fun participating ), finger shoved into his face about the ways of life, all the while his mother stuck him in music lessons and taught him the basics of medicine.

from this, silas became a collector– not of material items, though many came with the title-- but rather he collected skills and knowledge, priding himself as jack of all trades. football, the violin, suture a wound, build a cuckoo clock from raw materials, a little bit of everything under his belt with a craving to always learn more.

limiting himself to one full time occupation would’ve been too much of a commitment. so he dabbled, and the lack of direction wasn’t highly praised by either parent ( although his mother was more understanding ), but as a collector he indulged--and collected-- in various majors from various colleges and basically never stopped.

he left parton in his early twenties after his parents died in a questionable house fire and moved from city to city since. the longest he stay was in portland, oregon. he enjoyed it, especially loved the liberal way of life but the crime rate was tiring. five years ago he moved back to parton, new york and has been enjoying since, for as much as one can enjoy new york.

about

silas has obtain a moderate amount of degrees and skills, and he is still collecting more. he prefers to work by night through several part-time jobs while maintaining a constant schooling during the day for the moment that one might finally pique his interest enough to claim as his profession.

his present collection of knowledge includes but is not limited to degrees in philosophy, theology, psychology, chemical engineering, mechanical engineering, medical sciences, and metalsmithing. he is also a registered nurse.

arguably he does have one material collection that includes various theology, occult, and herbalism books he’s acquired from thrift stores and specialty stores. he prefers natural medicine than to drugs if the option is viable as his mother did. from her teachings, he is a very spiritual individual who actively practices his craft.

he’s the definition of ‘calm and collected’. it is rare, if not unthinkable to imagine silas as angry or upset… or excessively excited. of course he’ll smile, he’ll jibe and jest but he is never overtly in any spectrum of emotion. he thinks himself a perfectly content person… even if it’s not entirely true. any show of anger has no known outcome

[silasxhale]

✧ (platonic husband)

Ira Evans

I would kill you. ✧ I would physically hurt you. ✧ I would attack you unprovoked. ✧ I would manipulate you. ✧ I dislike you. ✧ You annoy me. ✧ You scare me. ✧ You intimidate me. ✧ I hope I intimidate you. ✧ I pity you. ✧ You disgust me. ✧ I hate you. ✧ I’m indifferent toward you. ✧ I’d like to get to know you better. ✧   I’d like to spend more time with you. ✧ I’d like to be friends with you. ✧  I’m unsure what to think of you. ✧ I’m unsure how I feel about you. ✧ You are my friend. ✧ You are my best friend. ✧ You are my mentor. ✧ I look up to you. ✧ I respect you. ✧ You are my hero. ✧ You inspire me. ✧ You are my enemy. ✧ You make me happy. ✧ I want to protect you. ✧ I would fight by your side. ✧ I consider you an equal. ✧ I think you are beneath me. ✧ I think you are above me. ✧ I would lie for you. ✧ I would lie to you. ✧ I would sleep with you. ✧ I would sleep by your side. ✧ I would hug you. ✧ I would kiss you. ✧ You are family to me. ✧ I would die for you. ✧ I would kill for you. ✧ I would trust you with my life. ✧ I would trust you with my most precious belonging. ✧ I would trust you with a secret. ✧ I would trust you with my biggest / darkest secret. ✧ I love you (platonically). ✧ I love you (romantically).

@iraxevans

[anneboleyns]

[blxstered]

[leecas]

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[joshhartnett]

Josh Hartnett photographed by Julien Lienard on May 22, 2017 in Cannes, France.