#modern threads.

[visxionaries]

who: @fromspringandfire when and where; in the library, cedric and laena end up looking at an old yearbook when he goes to find an old projector. context: these two did not date during school as she was with connie, but rather ended up having quite a whirlwind relationship when he studied for his undergrad at yale for a year - before it broke off when she realised he was not proposing after university. they dated two/three years.

he had called her laena, because he had not called her anything else in years. she had pulled a face, and instead insisted that she preferred lae. "right, lae it is. and i guess ced'll do just fine. you can call it the exception." he was meant to find the projector, and instead he had stumbled across a familiar quiet ghost in the library. his eyes flicker down to the yearbook, he can see photographs but not exactly what they are of. "does yale now accept catalogues as wider reading? incredibly unacademic of you. lazy."

[nasirofmanderlys]

who: @tionpeake when and where: nasir's room, as he tries to work out what blazer to wear

he were stood in the mirror, half wondering whether the blue appeared too bright for a function such as this one: he wordlessly answered his own question when he shrugged off the blazer, instead going to put on the grey one he was originally wearing at the beginning. all the while, he listened to his best friend speak on the update in his life; or multiple updates.

he moved to fix the tom ford watch on his wrist, walking back into the main living area where tion was, already in the rum nasir had begun to drink earlier.

"just block them." he uttered, as though he were offering groundbreaking advice. truly, ayca mallister had always been for the streets, and mariela egen's association with lucius rivers was enough. "if mariela wanted you, she'd be with you. she's not." because it were truly as simple as that. if someone wanted to be with someone, they would be. anything else, is dragging along another's interest for the sake of their own ego.

"both of them like the attention, even if they won't admit it. stop giving it to them."

[lucreziasredwyne]

who: @ofgoldengrove

please leave a message after the beep; the sound of the beep came, though not before a slight exhale came through the lips of lucrezia redwyne. such was the issue with these rural hotels; their facilities were not the best, and the keycard situation was one they could not help any further with - considering both hers and his were in tirius rowan's pocket, something she had asked him to do earlier on in the day.

"hey, call me back when you get this? i don't have my keycard." she wondered through the stone pathway in the small gardens within the centre of the hotel, her coat remaining wrapped around her as she ended the phone call. her phone battery was nearly dying, and the charger remained in her own hotel room; she looked back toward the reception doors.

she would wait in there, and eventually he would come back - where else would he sleep tonight?

and so she began to make her way back over to the reception, purple ribbon still in her hair, feeling her phone give one final buzz in her pocket before it died. she pushed the door open, indicating toward the receptionist that she would wait in the chairs by the fire - all the other rooms had been booked up. that's when she heard the escalator make a noise, and watch as mathis stepped out of it.

there was a slight look of relief that crossed her face as he stepped up, and she instantly rose from her seat, making her way over to him.

"salam." she greeted him, reaching forward to greet him as she always did; with kisses on both sides of his cheeks, before pulling away, ignoring the ache at the back of her purple heels. "do you by any chance know where tirius is? or, have a charged phone? my keycard is in his pocket." she explained, pulling away from their quick embrace.

[amirofmanderlys]

closed starter for @mintharaestermont location: the car, on route to the function

"i forgot how mad these roads are to drive on." he uttered over the sounds of the music filling the car; there was a chill in the air as a matte black jagular drove through the winding vermont roads, and whilst it were not quite winter, the beginning of autumn had already started to take place. still, there were many one way roads and many instances where amir had found himself needing to reverse in order to let a truck or two pass by. "every two seconds there's something."

his phone, connected to the bluetooth, set off with notification noises every now and then - something he did not look at as he drove. one hand rested affectionately upon minty's thigh, his thumb lightly tracing the same pattern again and again in a figure out of eight when two hands were not on the wheel.

it had been years since amir himself had returned to this place, and truthfully, it made him feel quite out of sorts; he were wholly aware of how out of place they were when driving through the state of vermont, even if there was more of a variety of people at the school itself. this whole reunion matter was something he was not sure he even wanted to focus on, considering it would mean he needed to take some time away from training - but she had expressed how she had wanted to go.

he glanced momentarily in her direction as they came to a red light, the rain continuing to lightly hammer against the window. a slight smile came over him as they caught gazes, a slight chuckle slipping from him. "you excited huh?"

[visxionaries]

who: @lencra context: these two have had a strange situationship going on for multiple years at this point - it is slightly more than the concept of passing one another by, but rather ghosting one another after weeks of intense texting. they run in similar social circles, considering cedric comes from a 'kennedy' esque family in new england with a british aristocrat for a mother, and lenora being a cousin to the lannisters.

another champagne cork seemed to pop open from someone in the circle around them, and the smoke continued to fill the air; and whilst cedric tyrell sat comfortably within the circle, rolling up the sleeves of his white shirt to his forearms, it were clear that he did not have anyone of his closest friends within this circle of aristocrats. they were in another hall no doubt, down the road in the only pub in kings landing; but he were listening.

he was actually rather enjoying the conversation. he was asked if he had watched anything that stuck with him in recent weeks. "martyrs, 2008 - weird one, typical of the french. the type that sticks in your head for a bit after." he quietly denied the offer of a cigarette as it was offered to him, the same hand adjusting the strap of his watch. his voice directed toward arron lannister and baashir dayne.

"it may be showing at cannes this year." the cannes festival was an event he tried to attend each year, and whilst he was still trying to weigh up whether that would be possible this year, the upcoming projects were ones he focused on. more than the gossip. though he would be lying if he said he did not listen to that either. "revenge arc and religious cult, but the second half of the film is a hard watch."

"the ending is one up to interpretation. tell you what, if we're still snowed in i'm sure there's some way we could roll out an old projector."

there was a familiar face sat across from him, a face that was incredibly familiar for the amount of times it had appeared on his phone screen through a small picture - before the texts shortened, and then ceased to exist. and yet, this whole conversation. neither of them had looked at one another, or acted as though there had been any text messages which stretched back years. why would they? and when a smile crossed his features, his gaze flickered up to lenora lefford sat across from him, who was also part of the conversation.

there was a beat. and then. "did you end up going to that surrealism exhibition in monaco?" aimed directly at the socialite across from him - there was no context offered for anyone else in the circle.

[visxionaries]

who: @conallblackbar context: these two have been close friends for multiple years, initially through omer considering cedric's mother is clover - on a trip to ireland during a summer holiday at school though, cedric found himself growing closer to conall himself.

twenty. twenty one. twenty two. "there's more to liverpool than klop. he brought us back into greatness, i get that - but he didn't work for the club to depend just on him. there's smoothness to the team itself now." there was a sweat that rested upon his forehead and trickled down the sides of his face, doing much to dampen his dark curls which he had allowed to grow out slightly - both men wore compression shirts and their football kit, and cedric continued to do kick ups with the ball as conall continued to pack away the last of his belongings.

twenty three. twenty four. twenty five. "so we'll see."

his movements were quite sporadic, trying his hardest to ensure he did not drop the ball as he continued counting, at one point using his head to shoot the ball up into the air before returning to his foot. twenty six. twenty seven. twenty eight. twenty nine. he heard connie's phone go off, but didn't react to it, continuing his quick ups until he heard the sound of omer florent sneak up behind him. it made him lose the ball.

"you're a prick florent." he then looked over at con's face, picking up the ball and holding it as he moved to throw it into his gym bag. "what?"

[ronanbrackens]

who: @omerflorent

there was a pit at the bottom of his stomach as his arms remained crossed, leaning against the pillar of this outdoor patio; there were many a pub dotted across main street of kings landing, though nothing compared to the real things back at home. still, ronan bracken waited outside, looking over the beer garden with his pint of guinness in his hand and his cigarette in the other, taking a long drought.

the blackbar brothers had arranged for them to meet up, and as he took a smoke, his gaze moved toward a familiar figure appearing at the door. was this planned? it better not have been.

he knew not whether it were planned, or whether it were just omer stopping for a pint. either was as likely. a slight laugh slipped from him then, almost one of disbelief and scoff as he took a final smoke, putting it out beneath his foot as he moved his eyes toward the familiar face. truthfully, it was one of a man he would always love - but right now, the line with hate seemed to blur more than ever before. ronan felt as though he had been taken for a mug and disrespected by his mate, and here he was.

it also just felt wrong. there was not much he could do about a consenting relationship between two adults, but jesus christ. it felt wrong. that was not something he could voice.

"don't be fucking looking at me that way, you slimy cunt." ronan spoke, taking a deep drink of his guinness, ready to down it. the last thing he needed was the two having a scuffle in this beer garden. there was genuine anger and irritation in ronan's tone, that was unusual when directed toward omer florent. he didn't like what he was looking at anymore. "what, did you expect a hug? fuck off."

[ronanbrackens]

who: @floatingshadow

the choice to venture to the school gym rather than use the gym on the hotel site was a choice - one no doubt influenced by nostalgia, and perhaps the want to take a wander through the school grounds unaccompanied as they once had been able to do so.

water bottle in hand, he begun to make his way back through the school grounds - taking a short cut as he drunk some water, enjoying the feeling of the breeze against his hot skin. he needed to shower, but there was nothing like the rush that came after a work out.

he moved to open a gate, getting ready to close it behind him as instructed on the sign, when he heard approaching footsteps. turning his dark gaze over his shoulder, he found a familiar face approaching him, intending on taking the same short cut. he simply held the gate open for her, but not saying anything - there was nothing to say. seeing maggie blackwood across from him was hardly unusual; he would see her across from his window most of the time when they returned home for the summer.

he cleared his throat, giving a slight nod and looking as though he were going to turn and begin to walk.