hayden eckers

son of a black hole

[toolbeltss]

rozepoise‌:

         WITHOUT  AN  OUNCE  OF  shame  does  she  peer  over  a  patron’s  shoulder  ,  eyes  gliding  across  filled  plate  ,  a  wrinkle  of  her  nose  before  gaze  is  moved  back  to  hayden.   the  way  she  leans  back  again  ,  clearly  not  impressed  but  heavily  pretending  to  be  is  perhaps  the  GREATEST  indication  that  she’s  willing  to  DRAG  this  out  as  long  as  she  can.  riling  up  hayden  ,  pulling  and  pulling  ,  anticipating  how  he  would  respond  (  sometimes  he  would  surprise  her  !   she  liked  that  the  most  ).   ❝  stew ,  hmm ?  can’t  say  it  looks  appetizing  but  what  would  i  know  ?  clearly  you’re  the  expert  here  ,  right  ? ❞  and  it’s  said  with  such  an  innocent  tone  one  might  think  she  TRULY  was  praising  him.  the  playful  wink  send  his  way  only  solidifying  it.  as  if  it  were  a  dance  itself  does  the  witch  pull  a  chair  from  an  unoccupied  table  &&  turn  it  so  she  may  sit  on  it  ,  one  leg  crossing  over  the  other  ,  hands  find  folds  of  dress  and  arrange  it  accordingly  across her  form.    

        ❝  how  could  you  ever  think  i  would  forget  your  name  ?  i  simply  think  calling  you  inn  keeper  is  more  intimate  and  fitting  !   it  has  a  certain  charm  to  it.  and  here  i  thought  we  we’re  close  ,  dear.  it  appears  i  was  severely  mistaken.  ❞  sigh  slips  passed  parted  glossy  cherry  brims  while  hand  comes  to  rest  upon  chest  (  fingers  curling  around  the  shimmering  stones  that  adorned  neck  ).    ❝ i  am  hurt  ,  hayden  and  frankly  you  have  disappointed  me.  do  with  that  what  you  will. ❞ 

“It’s hard for me to hide from you when you can see all my comings and goings right outside your window,” Hayden smiled genially. He’d seen a small twitch pass across her face. He’d read that as a challenge accepted, and rolled up his worn sleeves accordingly, exposing the ink of his forearms. The words and images there were in various degrees of fading, some nothing more than green-blue bruises beneath the skin, others intricate and colourful and looked fresh as yesterday.

He leant his broom against the wall with a knowing smile. Watch this.

“Of course we’re close. And as your close friend, it would be remiss of me not to offer you a bowl of this fine stew.” He took a wooden bowl from the serving table and filled it from the tureen with a practised hand, not taking his eyes from Azra’s face. A dare. “It might look unappetizing, and I’m sure it won’t measure up to the legendary status of your savoury treats, but of course it would be remiss of you to turn down your host’s generous offer.”

The murmuring of the patrons undulated like a wave. This was a battle of wills, and they had front row seats. Stew was now being forgotten all around the lounge room and this just frustrated Hayden all the more - food being wasted was not something he could abide. His patrons had been happily enjoying their meals until this distraction. He shoved the bowl towards Azra, sliding a silver spoon into the creamy dish. “Here. It’s on the house, Azra. Or would you prefer if I called you baker instead? Is that more intimate?”

[toolbeltss]

{ an odd job } faye & hayden [ theme ]

Hayden exhaled heavily and rubbed his eyes from the sting of saltwater on the breeze. His destination loomed ahead. The journey there had been no small feat; the lighthouse had always seemed so close when looking out from the solid background of Clocktown, but once he was finally walking there, for the first time ever, it seemed that the building kept pulling itself further and further away like a reluctant spectre. He heaved his tool-bag into his other hand, regretting the heavier equipment he had packed into it just in case and plucked at the great metal knocker of the lighthouse door.

He knew very little about the job he had been asked to do, and even less about the person who had asked him to do it. The request had come by letter, vaguely written and requesting he come specifically at this time and on this date. It was signed elegantly at the bottom: Faye, it said, as though that was all the explanation that was needed.

When the door creaked open, Hayden had to pull his eyes from examining the cracked facade of the old building. A lot of repair work needed there - the exposed boards were likely to soak in too much moisture if left untreated like they were. Refocusing on the person before him, he affected his best smile and said, “Hi, I’m Hayden, the uh, handyman from the town. Are you... Faye?”

[toolbeltss]

rozepoise‌:

  　　THE  WICKED  WITCH　　/   °⁕  and  the  handy(man)  inn keeper.: @toolbeltss​

          ❝ oh  ,  inn  keeper  ,  i  have  arrived  ~  ! ❞  saccharine  ,  honey  drips  from  every  word  ,  sticky  sweet as  it  clings  into  the  air  ;  like  molten  candy.  a  twirl  ,  raven  locks  pillow  behind  back  ,  pearl  necklace  cold  against  warm  skin  &&   she  clasps  hands  together ,  doe  -  like  eyes  lighting  up  when  they  settle  upon  their  victim.   ❝ there  you  are  ,  darling  !  and  here  i  thought  you  finally  decided  to  leave  and  never  return  again   ❞ laughter  like  CHIMING  BELLS  hiding  the  threat  underneath.   ❝  did  you  know  i  have  a  new  daily  special  ?  it’s  to  die  for  !  interested  ? ❞

Hayden was sweeping the kitchen floor when he heard the door entry bell ring. He popped up over the service hatch with his usual broad grin on his dusty face, the personification of excellent customer service. Then he caught the swirl of floral fabric swooping in through the door and immediately ducked back down beneath the hatch.

He cursed under his breath, and whispered conspiratorially to his broom, “Okay, just got to humour her for a few minutes and then she’ll go. We’ve got this, buddy.”

He rose again and tried his best to look (pleasantly) surprised. “Oh, Azra! It’s great to see you,” he said, pouring into the greeting every ounce of manners he had ever learned. He noticed quite a few of his patrons were watching the baker closely as she twirled inside, gesturing as she went, weaving her way through the mismatched furniture of the inn (she couldn’t seem to just walk). Against the threadbare adventurers sitting on the threadbare seats, this pristine glowing goddess was obviously out of place.  It was hard to tell if the glint in her dark eyes was actual happiness or just sheer vindictiveness.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m still here,” he said with the same smile. As he stepped out of the kitchen and into Azra’s full firing range, he became hyper-aware he was still wearing his greying cleaning apron. “And unfortunately my guests here are just enjoying my new daily special - homemade chicken stew. Besides, it’s a bit too early for dessert, don’t you think?”

He noticed some of the patrons were talking quietly, some of them even straining their necks to peer out at Azra’s sweet little bakery on the other side of the street. He gripped his broom-comrade tighter, (”We’re losing them, buddy...”)

“By the way, as we’re neighbours, please feel free to call me by name. It’s Hayden, just in case you’d forgotten.”

[toolbeltss]

{ indelible } alexi & hayden [ theme ]

Hayden was thinking about home. As much as Harst ever was a home, anyway. Though it would always be the place where he was born and quickly orphaned, it would always be a transient point for him. There had been homes since and he was sure there would be more homes still to come - and in all of this, Harst was hardly a standout contender for his heart and soul. And yet, today’s nagging thoughts of the snow-tipped mountains and bone-aching cold drew Hayden to the doorstep of the one person he knew would understand his descriptor of the feeling.

He didn’t knock. The door gently clitter-clacked against dangling wooden masks as he let himself inside.

“Alexi?” he called into the gloom of the shop. He imagined the low light was supposed to be atmospheric, but in reality it was creepy. He never felt more seen than when he visited this particular place, and the dead eyes of the masks hanging from the rafters were only partly responsible. He tried to ignore the scuttling sounds from above, the noises far too loud to be rats and far too numerous to just be the building settling. This was the home Alexi had chosen, and Hayden tried not to be judgemental about it, but honestly? He just couldn’t see the appeal. Give him bustling tables and comfy seats that ate you up any day.

“How’s your supply of biri ink looking? Your favourite canvas is here for an upgrade.” He made sure to add, a little louder this time, “I stopped by the bakery on the way, might have picked you up a little something-something.”

[sugajimin]

the man he is!