#send a message (asks).

[workingonthevices]

"I know you lied to me."

;start something

Unconcern was best served fishing through one’s pockets for a Malboro and a Zippo. Robert threw in an eye-roll to be sure. It was almost elegant. He struck the lighter a couple of times. “You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor. The eighth commandment.” The cigarette caught.

He took a long drag—clearly, he had yet to break the smoking habit—then blew smoke into Joseph’s face. Yet to break the asshole habit too. “Oh, sorry. Do you call it the ninth? Refresh my memory. And while you’re—” He cut the breath short. No, stay out of sixth commandment for now.

“While you’re at it, maybe you can actually find something to incentivize my telling you any sort of truth. Catholics like myself like a lead by example type—and I’m only following your lead, Father Joseph.”

[workingonthevices]

HC+Time as a Teenager

;prompted headcanons

Robert was a teenager in a very interesting period in New York history, the 1980s. It was a time when the city was a decaying, graffitied ruin of a bygone era. It was in its death throes, and it had the filth and chaos of it. It was a time where crime was high, racial tensions higher. Crack was king. HIV/AIDs murdered people on the marble steps of the courthouses and town halls while government officials at every level fiddled away inside. It was nothing like the glittering town people think of now. Times Square, after all, was a row of sex shops and porn video stores. It wasn’t Crossroads of the World; it was the wrong side of the tracks.

This was the context Robert grew up in.

Robert, for his part, didn’t have to worry much about turning to crime to stay alive. Even then, even a few years earlier while the city itself teetered on bankruptcy and the Daily News reported that Ford said DROP DEAD, his family was financially comfortable. Still, there was the distrust that people held for any sort of well-off nonwhite family. That sort of constant dirty looks turned anyone cynical and bitter—and it certainly did Robert.

Robert was a decent kid anyway, mostly. A handful, sure, but in the climate of the city, he was a handful firmly in the confines of the law. No wandering around unnecessarily at night, no vandalism or other minor criminal infractions. He was a nonwhite teenager in a city that was hysterical. Robert isn’t black, but it was frightening to be a dark boy in a town that saw mobs murder young black men in the streets for no reason other than existing every couple of months.

It was enough to keep Robert in line. He saved it all for his late twenties and early thirties, when the city began to pick itself back up to its feet in the mid 90s and the climate shifted somewhat.

[workingonthevices]

§

;random fact(s) about Robert

Robert is a home team kind of guy, and he supports the New York teams on principle. Baseball, though, is his sport of choice, the one he follows most closely and has the most vested interest in.

Robert roots the Mets first, always, and he supports them in the Subway Series, which he absolutely keeps up with. Being a Mets fan is a hard and unrewarding business, and they disappoint more often than anything. But it’s damn exciting when they win. They’re baseball’s perennial underdog, and it’s difficult for Robert to not be drawn to them.

Though, if the New York teams aren’t playing in this game, he always roots most against New York’s bitterest rivals, special wishing of losses on the Patriots and Red Sox. Yeah, it’d be cool if the New York teams win, but it’s all fine as long as the Red Sox and Patriots lose.

Talking about the Red Sox and Patriots, he does live in Massachusetts. That’s made things a little interesting, sometimes. Living there has made him an especially obnoxiously vocal Yankee fan. He also likes to bring up the 1949, 1978, and 2003 World Series losses against the Yankees, though his favorite is: “Remember when the Mets, Baseball’s Greatest Losers, beat the Red Sox in the World Series in ‘86?”

[workingonthevices]

HC+Aliens

;prompted headcanons

The Fermi Paradox, in part, is that it’s statistically certain that we are not the only life in the universe, but, despite this, we have found no proof of other life—where is everybody?

While Robert calls himself a Skeptic“™” when it comes to cryptids, he’s not really one when it comes to aliens. They exist. He believes it.

He doesn’t go all Fox Mulder though.

He believes in aliens the way SETI scientists do. With mixture of (true) skepticism and wild hope—and maybe a dash of not wanting the lonely title of being the only life out here. Unlike the cryptid stuff, it’s a more measured belief that follows the route of the actual science related to it.

What he doesn’t believe is basically any alien conspiracy theory. Literally, any story about UFOs or grays or Area 51 he disbelieves out of hand. It seems silly of him to make that kind of distinction between alien theories and cryptid theories, but he does.

Genuinely, if you try to sell him some bullshit on how aliens built Sacsayhuamán or the Nasca lines or the moai at Easter Island or the pyramids in Egypt or Teotihuacán, you’ll probably get some lecture about casual racism in the conspiracy community through the insidious insinuation that pre-modern nonwhite folk are incapable of advanced engineering. Then, or if you mention something like Stonehenge being built by aliens, you’ll get an earful about how conspiracy theories like that just ignore the sheer ingenuity of humanity when it comes to engineering and design.

[workingonthevices]

“You don’t know anything about me” | @k-egstands (i hope i aint bothering you! :c also hi! )

;person of interest

Robert rolls his eyes. That’s my line. He shakes his head and distracts himself rummaging through his pockets for a cigarette and a light. “You got me, Craig. You mind if I smoke?”

Found a stray, and it goes between his lips without hesitation. “Mind if I smoke?” No, not waiting for an answer. Of course Craig minds. He takes cigarette out of his mouth and gestures into a shrug in one fluid motion. “I don’t know anything about you.”

“I’m just telling you, everyone’s got their vices and not all of them… look like mine do.”

@k-egstands

[workingonthevices]

"Australia is entirely peopled with criminals."

;The Princess Bride sentences

Robert is really tempted to spin a yarn long enough to span the Sydney Harbor, but… he really can’t stand misinformation going into the minds of the impressionable youth. Australia’s actual history of colonization and modern combative reputation aside.

He looks Lucien in the eye and musters the flattest tone possible.

“George Miller.” Not that Mad Max helped disprove the ‘entirely peopled with criminals’ thesis. “Mandy Walker.” Well, she doesn’t live in Australia anymore, actually. “Peter Weir. Martha Ansara.” Name some people the kid would know, for Chrissake, Small.

“Hugh Jackman.” He moved out too. “Cate Blanchett. “