like a bad soap opera— @thcusandcuts - Tumblr Blog

( alan ritchson, cis man, he/him ) — bartholomew “barry” kennedy, 42, has called coronado home all their life. as a former professional athlete turned personal trainer, their world is steeped in the bitter taste of a failed dream, the corrosion of resentment and a body you can’t recognize anymore. often found in arms as loveless as his, they move through life with good old fashioned lover boy by queen in their ear.

tjdelbosque

Barry says 'thanks' in the same tone someone else might say 'yes, I've just recovered from a sixty-day cold', or 'I'd rather stick a hot poker in my eye'; gruff and phlegmatic.

"If you're willing to pay for it, anything can be a common occurrence." The Del Bosque replies, leaning over the man to reach for an empty tumbler. "But no, don't worry... We aren't out to replace humans just yet. I don't think it'd go down too well. Do you?"

It's a joke in poor taste given the presentation they've all just sat through, but that doesn't dissuade him. He shoots Barry a smile as he moves over to prepare his own drink. "Speaking of which, who's holding the ball and chain, tonight? Forgive me for saying so, but you don't look like you've come willingly."

thcusandcuts

The man is observant, or Barry's got a bad poker face. Either way, the fact that he mentions Leon sends a stab of irritation through his veins, making the one that popped on his neck strain for a second more before he regains a bit of control. If he thought about it hard enough, it was alarming to hear a Del Bosque know about him—anything about him. It felt like a bad omen, almost. "Nah, but if I'm going to be honest, you could replace everyone here with automation and no one would bat an eye." "And my husband is... off to do some work." Or whatever he's up to. Really, Barry tries to stay away from his arbiter work, seeing as it's already cost him more than he wanted to shill out. "He was supposed to come, but backed out—I managed to get one someone's list." "I just need another drink, and I'll be fine, I'm sure." It sounds fake to him, like he's speaking through gritted teeth, even now. If someone checked his blood pressure, the gauge would definitely short-circuit. "Tonight's events just... need some getting used to. Most excitement I've had is a couple of nights in a yacht I won't recount."

#( ft. teodosio del bosque )#( teodosio del bosque: 001 )#( event 002: coronado eterna )#teo knowing anything about barry feels like a threat #(positive)#also. ngl but the visual of teobarry interacting feels wild

unmarkt

“Everything’s moving along according to schedule,” Fumiko says. He shouldn’t be privy to this information. Coronado Eterna, as an event, is of great import—as opposed to the celebrity bashes that Barry has undoubtedly received many invitations to time and again. However, he’s a far better sparring partner than she’d expected. Up to this point, he has been worthwhile—surprisingly worth every sello she has stuck into his pocket for what she views as glorified play fighting. “I’ve no objections about the new premier and vice premier. I’m not inclined to complain about bureaucracy; regardless of my family, I wouldn’t be the sort to voice grievances.” Unlike the average citizens who don’t know better.

thcusandcuts

Barry doesn't say anything to the contrary, simply nods as if he was pre-programmed to do so. There should be subtleties, better ways to put this with guile and the batting of his eyes, but his social skills have worn down as of late. Trying to be genteel with no contact from high society makes him feel young again, foolish as he was back then, staring down reporters and cameras during one of this first games. "Of course, ma'am. You're well attuned to the whole bureaucracy—" Thing? No. "Of the island, I'm sure." Meanwhile, everyone else is ground down to the nubs, scrambling and worried about the prices of everything that they need to live. He's no humanitarian. Hell, he's a couple of paychecks above the average Coronadan, but the infighting between families don't spare anyone at all. "If you're not going to talk to them, though, I wouldn't mind seeing them up close and personal." It's a mild joke, lukewarm and probing, trying to gauge her reaction. Though, he'll be honest with himself, it does sound desperate. Just a little.

#( ft. fumiko shibata )#( fumiko shibata: 002 )#( event 002: coronado eterna )#barry vc i need to eat glass. i need to eat glass now.

unlegitimate

"Everyone here's wearing a suit." Even the help. It's a formal event, if someone showed up in anything less than a suit he's sure they'd be escorted from the premises posthaste. He takes a few slow, deep breaths, looking down at the ground beneath the balcony, feeling like some useless, pathetic heroine in a bad romance novel, waiting to be saved from a fate she never asked for. Embarrassing. That's no one's business, though.

He can't show any sort of weakness, not when he doesn't know who has a camera (or a fucking microphone, apparently, he can't wait to find out the consequences of that fuckup), no matter how badly he wants to rub at his eyes and push his hands through his hair and loosen his tie. "Yeah, I hadn't noticed that before, thank you for that apt observation," he says, words dripping in sarcasm. "I didn't ask for this, you know." He wasn't involved in any of the planning of the night, he's sure that he wouldn't be involved in any family business, if the rest of the family had any say in it. "It's a smaller island than it seems."

thcusandcuts

Tell it to Andrea to bat away a compliment. He swears, the man gets off on just being sad all the time, the expression on his face almost calcifying the caricature that he tries to deal with inside his head. But even so, Barry takes a breath and tries for kindness this time around, a novel concept, but one so uniquely alien to him after years of resentment and rage festering inside him. It's easier this way anyway—anyone else is too far removed from him to even matter. At least, it's what he tells himself. "Hey, you're talking to someone who had a camera shoved in their face for like, years at a time, I kinda get it." It's far from being one of the families, but he can at least sympathize. There are no words for this brand of fucked, but he can at least offer hiss company, as good or as bad as it may be. "You thinking about swimming away to somewhere else?" It's a lark. Coronado is a cage, but it's still good to dream of escape. "I hear the mainland's got a couple of nice beaches."

#( andrea del bosque: 002 )#( ft. andrea del bosque )#( event 002: coronado eterna )

for @glittergab—

His old stints in the limelight brought on some odd jobs and odder acquaintances, one of which being on a TV show back in his heyday. He was no hotshot, of course—a couple of years into his career as everything sort of started to stack up and he was on a Du Bois TV show. Live Out Loud was a fun time, only obscured by the haze of the ages and tragedy, so even he has to do a double take when he remembers. Even more so when someone starts to mention it.

"I—hello?" It was a Du Bois—apt, but he still steels himself and plasters on a small smile, trying to not hold his glass too tight for fear of breaking it. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Du Bois." He doesn't remember which of the Queen Bee's siblings this is. Or was this a cousin? Shit—he should have kept track.

#( ft. greta du bois )#( greta du bois: 001 )#( event 002: coronado eterna )#is this anything? tell me if i should change it!

tjdelbosque

LOCATION — Isolde, Villa Solana DATE — July 18, Pt. II STARTER — Closed for @thcusandcuts

Barry sticks out like a sore thumb.

A passably-dressed sore thumb, granted, but an anomaly in this crowd nevertheless.

He's fiddling with a very new, state of the art, automatic cocktail dispenser as Teodósio approaches... With a scowl etched deep enough in his features it could almost, almost, give Katashi a good run for his money.

"Column for the type of alcohol, row for the percentage." He leans in, voice dropping a few octaves as if sharing a VIP-level secret.

"... And if you press the big metal lever, you might even get some ice with it."

thcusandcuts

The Del Bosque cockiness is something that grates against his own arrogance. Whether it's the steroids for his knees, his own pride, or the fact that the night has been turning into a fever dream before his very eyes, Barry feels a vein pop out of his neck in response. Just take a breath, he thinks, and don't do anything to get yourself kicked out. "Thanks." It leaves his mouth like the strain on a tire leaking air as he gets a Sobresegundo, hoping it at least helps the interaction go down smooth. "So," he starts, trying to swallow what bubbles under his chest. "This a common occurrence, or am I just not used to machines making my drink?"

#( ft. teodosio del bosque )#( teodosio del bosque: 001 )#( event 002: coronado eterna )#>:3c

unlegitimate

Mostly, he's looking for a place to be alone for all of five minutes. He's spent the whole night practically fending off attacks from any given partygoer; he's done having the same fucking conversations over and over and over again. With his notebook securely locked in his safe at home, Andrea has no place to get out all of the feelings that are practically churning up bile in his stomach – he needs some tranquility.

That doesn't come, of course. Why would it? "I'm not making waves," he tries not to snap as he goes to lean against the railing of the balcony, with the hope that fresh air will clear his head and make him able to return to the night's pomp and circumstance without much hassle. "If you want waves, go find my mother, I'm sure she'd be delighted to talk about the waves she's making in this crowd."

thcusandcuts

It's here beneath the lights and the stars and the glamour, Barry can't help but see Andrea as he really is: a Del Bosque. He might rail and disagree, but there's a difference between the two of them, even if Andrea wears his family name like an ill-fitting suit. But that difference is marginal to Barry, all things considered. It's why he can get along with him, if he doesn't act like his siblings, even tonight at a state dinner where he feels like he should just walk into the ocean and never be seen again. "Pretty guy in a suit like you? You're bound to make waves anyway," he says, situating himself next to him with a cat-like grin on his face. It's a shame they're not in Amnesia; he thinks the man could do with a couple of downers. "Shit aside, you're part of that family. There's always gonna be waves, even if you like it or not."

#( ft. andrea del bosque )#( andrea del bosque: 002 )#( event 002: coronado eterna )

unmarkt

It’s exhausting having to pretend to be adequate. A dodge here. A swing there. But she needs to fill her time with something. Living in Coronado—staying put in Coronado—is so terribly arid. Each time Barry ‘gives her a challenge,’ her fists clench. It’s an aggravating sensation, one she never thought she’d feel, how she needs to hold herself back. Right then, she notices an entry point: she could seize hold of his right shoulder, launch herself sideways through the air, her body horizontal as her legs slice through space like blades—the leading leg cutting high while the trailing leg sweeps low, both limbs crossing in a deadly arc before she lands in a crouch. But none of it happens. Instead, she lunges low to avoid his fist and huffs out a quiet, “Sure.” Fumiko peels off her gloves and tosses them to the bench, her eyes still keenly observing Barry. She’s encountered many men like him—ones with brute strength. That would’ve been his downfall at the institute, but it’s gotten him celebrity here. It’s fascinating to see the fruits of the del Bosques’ patronization of sports. Perhaps it conveys a message about how brute strength is rewarded. “We’ll have to reschedule a few of our sessions; I have fittings at Arrazola for Coronado Eterna. It’ll take up all of my time, unfortunately,” she says. “We’ll make up for the lost time on the weekends.”

thcusandcuts

There's something he's observed with Fumiko—the way that her shoulders coil and her body moves; it's not uncommon for him to see people well-exercised in the gym, but it's another thing for him to witness halted movement. He can never be sure, but it's not his place to judge. He saw it all the time back then, when players would try to take a dive during a match to let their bookies win. It was the stumbling, halted steps when they try to run and realize they shouldn't, the kicks that spun the ball the wrong way, instead of scoring it in the goals. It's not his place to question, but it is certainly something to take note of. Interesting to think about, but well above his pay grade. He's just contracted to teach her boxing and train her. "The Del Bosque atelier? Fancy. Even back during the Premier League days we could never get a booking." It's small talk, but he can't help hide the stab of envy that he feels about her getting to go. Invited too—the big families always are. Though, he thinks, a plan comes to mind. Whether it be a well-executed plan is something else, but he still thinks about it for a long time. He doesn't like owing her. It's the hooks, he thinks, it's how they get you, but he'll bow and scrape just like the rest of them for now. Just to touch the stars for one night. "How... is the Coronado Eterna thing going, ma'am? A state dinner after the elections have to be..." Fucking tense. "Volatile."

#( ft. fumiko shibata )#( fumiko shibata: 002 )#( event 002: coronado eterna )

dira-gowda

Coronado Eterna, part 2 @thcusandcuts

"Of course." Dira mutters under her breath, the sound hot with anger. "Those fucking bastards." Her fork jabs too hard into the soft flesh of the fish she no longer tastes. The sound sharp and unpleasant.

thcusandcuts

There's not much surprise on his face, but even he can sense the growing aggression in the air. It's as if someone had missed an important foul ball, and now, the locker rooms were saturated with blame and shifting eyes; of course, the people dress it up prettier, nicer, but he can see the snarls by the curve of their lip. "I didn't expect anything less," he says, the fish tasting decadent in his mouth. A small indictment of him; even with his mild fame and the riches he bought—he's still nothing to these people. "How bad you think it's gonna get?"

#( ft. indira gowda )#( indira gowda: 001 )#( event 002: coronado eterna )

for @unlegitimate—

To be in the higher reaches of society is something that Barry considers a pleasurable side-effect of his former job, but this felt less like decadence and more like a bloated corpse, washing up on the beach. It doesn't help that the top people here, the actual movers and shakers are people that he can't exactly stand, much less swallow. Hell, he even saw the guy that broke his kneecaps, and he had to bolt. Champagne flute in hand, he finds a secluded space to take a second, to steel and center himself before coming back out.

This was a bad idea—but he has to see it through. It wasn't enough, the marginal slip into being a nonentity, when he had a good run, a perfect season of people cheering him on. But this is reparations to him. One of these motherfuckers put a hit out on Leon, and he was collateral, so he had to collect. To make it worth it. At least, it's what he tells himself; lies are the only thing getting him up out of bed in the morning sometimes.

Barry nurses the drink, and looks at the approaching figure, familiar in its gait as he tries to straighten himself up. It wouldn't do to have emotions, after all. "Well, look at what the tide washed up." He says, a small smile coming around to his face. "I thought you didn't want to make waves? What gives, you lose a bet or something?"

#( ft. andrea del bosque )#( andrea del bosque: 002 )#does this work? who knows #not me!

for @honeysnared—

Barry's suit is fine.

Everything, frankly, is fine. Admission of defeat isn't his strong suit, so he tries to at least wear his discomfort like a badge of honor, or pride. Whichever one doesn't tarnish as quickly. It was one thing in his head, Coronado Eterna, but this was something out of his depth.

He regrets coming here, at least, even with the fine trays and gorgeous décor—everyone talks as if they half spit out acid when they want to say anything relatively straightforward, which was almost never. The presentation outlined schemes of historical preservation, but even Barry, with days on the field sunning himself and not thinking about politics, can see that this was bad. It at least calcified the hatred that he had for the families; it was fine for them to play the games to ruin each other, and they were all ants trampled under their boots.

So, he retreats to a plate of hors d'oeuvres with a flute of champagne by his side, making pleasant small talk to the few people that walk around him. It's not the fact that this is shaping up to be a bad night—it's the fact that this whole debacle made Leon right. Maddening!

Barry turns, seeing a figure approaching from the corner of his eye, and he smiles, forced. Tatiana Du Bois. His night just keeps getting better. "Hello there, ma'am," he says with a bittersweet edge to his voice. "You want a couple of finger foods? I have to say, the catering... or, well, the chefs do an amazing job."

#( ft. tatiana du bois )#( tatiana du bois: 001 )#barry vc god. why must leon be Fucking Right About Everything

for @unmarkt—

Damn Leon.

There are few things that he likes about the man—his face is pretty enough, and still, he can admit that he's a good person to live with. But a surprising thing about Leon is the fact that his job, however Barry may hate it, invites them both to wonderful events. His star power still gets him to red carpets, to parties hosted by some of the glitziest and more glamorous of his friendlier acquaintances, but Leon's connections get him to the top suite.

So, it's no wonder that the man spoils his fun, and declares that he won't go. Not even after a fight. Figures that he'd married the wettest wet blanket known to Coronado, but now, he'll put his sights on hold, and simply get on with his life. He may hate the families, he may blame them for ruining him, but even he isn't immune to the allure of whatever golden gods sit high atop them all. Curiosity kills cats, but he was two-fifty on a good day, and curiosity would need a fucking prayer if it tried him.

For now, his life consists of Fumiko Shibata, erstwhile employer and his client, sparring and dodging her hits as they box. Thank fuck for the cash. "Good form. Left." He says, swinging with his right, trying to catch her off-guard with a swipe to her right temple. Training, at least, is somewhat chill, though a plan comes to mind. One that, admittedly, makes him want to just walk into oncoming traffic. "You want to take a break, ma'am?"

#( ft. fumiko shibata )#( fumiko shibata: 002 )#( event 002: coronado eterna )

unlegitimate

He doesn't stiffen when he's touched. Despite the fact that he's unused to any sort of physical affection (parents never loved him, siblings are either distant or too close), he knows Barry well enough at this point to anticipate touches even when they're meters apart. The tall motherfucker and his ability to close distances in a few short strides. If it weren't for his fucked knees maybe, just maybe, Andrea would consider hiring him as a guard. All of his siblings have them, why not him? Oh, right, he's being forced to go to a bar.

"Oh, do you not like my interior design choices? I would've never known. You've only mentioned it the past... what, every time you've been to my apartment?" Andrea almost bats Barry's hand away at the squeeze - does this look like the place for public affection like that? There is no place for public affection like that. He's a del Bosque; there are appearances to keep up. Instead, he glares up at him - he really needs to be less fucking tall. "Paradiso, Pachá, or Carbon. Take your pick."

thcusandcuts

Andrea is touchy. Barry likes pushing his buttons. It goes on and on and on until one or the other gets sick of it, and does something about it. Sometimes, the something's just as good as pushing his buttons, but he'd never tell Andi that. The shark's grin widens as he acquiesces, Andi letting himself be led away by Barry onto a wild night instead of what he assumes is staring at the wall in the dark or just reading a book alone in an apartment during a weekend. "Pachá? Carbon? Next time I'm dragging you to Amnesia for a good time. Take a couple pills and zone out to bass or something," he chides, hugging him from the side. For someone too familiar with scandal and burning out, he has no sympathy for how exactly they look. Eh, let the cameras take a shot—he doesn't exactly care at this point. "Paradiso. First bottle of tequila's on you, and I'll grab us a table. Sound fun, Andi?"

#( ft. andrea del bosque )#( andrea del bosque: 001 )#is barry a shithead? yeah <3 but he's a shithead who knows how to fucking party <3

100boxties

Lucky's face twists with disgust, word by word. Barry. Regular. A treat. "Right..."

"Yeah I know," Lucky counters, fast, probably too fast. He doesn't need some random meatball telling him what he already knows about Joey. The smile makes him grimace, like he's being taunted with something Barry knows that he doesn't. Why hasn't Joey mentioned Barry before?

"Well, consider yourself fucking... introduced or whatever. And I'll have a lager whilst you're at it." He crosses his arms over one another. "She hasn't mentioned you before so, you know, whatever you're doing... it's probably not good enough."

thcusandcuts

What in the hell crawled in this guy's ass and died? It's getting harder and harder to try to be nice to people, and sometimes, Barry doesn't even know why he fucking bothers. He feels his hand grip tightly around the glass, and he wonders if he could break it and just go. Then he'd get cuts on his palm, and what'd that do for him? Nothing. "Sure, man." He waves for a lager and turns his gaze back onto the guy—Lucky. "I'm just a customer that likes her stuff; don't need to get all pissy about it," Barry remarks, "What, you some kinda territorial weirdo about her or something?"

#( ft. lucky virk )#( lucky virk: 001 )#barry vc you try to be nice ONCE and you get it thrown back in your face #barry vc i need to slash his tires

unlegitimate

A blink. A second blink. "Seriously?" He put on cologne for this. He could've had a nice, relaxing night at home with a movie or a book, but he's here, apparently, because- "They didn't pay you enough to kick around a ball for that long?" There are a handful of nice, dark, exclusive bars that he knows, but he doesn't particularly want to run into anyone he's related to tonight. Unfortunately, he's here, and he's not going to just turn around and fuck off. "Do you have a bar of choice, then? Or do you trust my tastes?"

thcusandcuts

Ah, there's that hot poker through his mind again—reminded of his broken knees. You're the target of a home invasion that ruins your career and you never hear the end of it. An arm wraps around Andrea and he pulls him in for a side hug, the sharp smile of his turning almost lethal. Even if he was just supposed to be his fun trainer, Barry can't help but push Andi's buttons for his own amusement. What else was he supposed to do? "Oh, come on, sourpuss. I think I know you well enough to trust your own taste. I know your taste in booze can't be worse than your taste in furniture." And that you prefer darker rooms than Barry, much to his chagrin. He squeezes, smirking as they walk on. "Besides, what kinda guy would I be if I didn't let you at least pick?"

#( ft. andrea del bosque )#( andrea del bosque: 001 )#andi vc noooo don't make me go out :/ (is out)

unlegitimate

"What's this about, then? Your text was vague, to say the least."

@thcusandcuts

thcusandcuts

Barry smiles like an experienced mugger's knife: whip-fast and sharp. The entitlement should rankle him, being a Del Bosque, but Barry pisses him off in ways that scratch his psyche well enough, so he figures it's an even trade. "It's the fact that you're going to buy drinks in a nice, dark, exclusive bar for the both of us," he says, clapping Andy on the shoulder. "Call it my bonus."

#( ft. andrea del bosque )#( andrea del bosque: 001 )#ah. i love them both already!#[we do not see the passage of time]

arbetrayal

the answer was surprisingly genuine—unexpected, it caught leon off guard. maybe it was surprising that he was participating at all, that he had taken to the idea without jumping at the chance for mockery. or was he just preparing his roster? that seemed less likely, more of a thought for the bitter cynic in him. oh, how far they had fallen. at one point, all of his thoughts for barry had been warm, loving. now it was difficult to keep them kind at all. he missed what they had, the person he had been then. sighing, he glanced between barry and the therapist, who nodded encouragingly, before he spoke again. "okay," he started, hands folded in his lap. "okay, i'll see what i can do. you know work pulls me around, though." leon didn't feel the need to specify which kind—did it matter? "and will you stop walking your boytoys through my—through our—hallway?"

thcusandcuts

Work. For one of the families, he supposes—an arbiter in their pocket like flashy new credit cards; it never felt right to Barry that he still carried on like this, like nothing happened because of Leon's work. Of course, it wasn't his dreams that were shattered, not his career in shambles, not his body broken, no. Leon's work was important and necessary and he's dug himself into someone's pockets that Barry remains ignorant of. The thought of it all makes his knees ache and his chest burn, a molten ball of metal where his affection should be. It shouldn't make him angry, but it does. It seeps into his tone as he tries to breathe in and out, looking at the therapist before continuing. "I know work does. Can't you try to at least tell them to leave you alone?" Barry feels hysterical, the words between them knives in the dark. "If you—if you manage that, then I'll stop walking them through our house." It feels pathetic to Barry, but it's what he's reduced to. Damn Leon. Damn him and the horse he rides in on.

#( ft. leon kennedy )#( leon kennedy: 002 )#haha <3 i break my own heart replying to this #love them though <3

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like a bad soap opera—