#gus.

[harrietmclaughlin]

SATURDAY NIGHT: stop two ( @gus-reynolds )

the lights in the barn were on, and she would settle for anyone. she could drive the knife in, turn her hurt inside out, and they would all be there for brunch the next day. the whole family always gave it a pass, asked about her family, wondered where her siblings were. a myriad of insecurities which couldn't be named too loud, lest the public hear.

she could ask saffron about her dating life with a smile, grace could tell her all about the election. she would kick holden's teeth in for sleeping with her and then ignoring her so completely, if he was the face that appeared in the doorway. dominic, bart, little lost sheep este, all ripe for the picking. and gus...

"quite the late hour for you to be working." she greeted the patriarch. they'd been friendly enough since she played along so nicely with dungeons and dragons. but those texts grace sent her weren't friendly. they were scared, and she could do anything with scared. "spent too long redecorating?"

[pillowxtalk]

Closed starter for Joshi: Nightly chase! @absque-nocte

Joshi had just come home after a concert, and he was exhausted. But just as he had reached his front door and opened it, he felt something soft move between his legs, followed by a meow. And the next thing he knew was that his cat, Muffin, was running down the hallway of his apartment building. The young male cursed under his breath, closed his door again and started to chase after his fluffy friend. "Come back here, Muffin." He called out after the cat, trying not to be too loud, because it was way after midnight, and he didn't mean to wake his neighbors up.

Joshi ran down the hallway, his eyes fixated on his cat, who couldn't care less that he was chasing her. Muffin was a little escape artist, and he should have known better than to not watch his feet. And just as the elevator came in sight it's doors opened and someone stepped outside. "Grab her and don't let her in the elevator." He shouted and ran faster.

[woodspile]

the tragedy of gus ranger is .. that dying farm he’s born on. ‘em athletic records getting broken and erased. his lifelong work of shining a light on abandoned buildings / towns. all these forgotten people he puts together in these documentaries. just for the tapes to be left collecting dust on shelves. only distorted or blurred pictures of him left remaining. augustus sue ranger never having legally existed to begin with, so how on earth is anyone supposed to remember him?

[husknoises]

"hey what's going on with your dog" "yeah"

[harrietmclaughlin]

where: the reynolds ranch

when: post a little malibu excursion

who: @gus-reynolds

the reynolds ranch typically ran as clock work. every little puzzle piece clicking together to make the picture of a well maintained business. even amidst some of the other goings-on, things seemed to run in order.

it was the odd day when the man of the house wasn't around to hover, something that was felt in the air, more than it was commented on. she hadn't said anything about it to aspen, hadn't needed to. and her patience was rewarded, it seemed, as she walked out of the house to find the man of the missed hour.

"gus." her face lit up at seeing the older man on the drive, pocketing her own car keys so she could catch him before he diverted to the house or the barn. the mystery needn't remain such when she could solve it right here and now. cut right to the chase, no need to involve any well-timed speculation. "where have you been all day?"

[harrietmclaughlin]

who: @gus-reynolds

where: the reynolds ranch porch

when: waiting for her ride home

aspen had taken the opportunity to run inside the house while the town car was being unloaded and distractions abound to pack a small overnight bag for mickey's. which left harriet standing on the front porch of the house she hadn't been to in months, her suitcase at her feet and the patriarch of the home

"he'll be here soon." she greeted gus, her voice trying to clip the tone so he knew she wasn't simply loitering. although they'd exchanged a few small conversations while he was still in the hospital, they certainly hadn't broached any meaningful topics. there was just the same question, again and again, "how are you?"

[woodspile]