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In Edenridge → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Early Morning - What If
FT. The Milligan-Hyde Family (Cameron Hyde, Jessica James Hyde,and Jasmine April Hyde)



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Early morning rising was never something Jessica Hyde was ever a fan of. For years before becoming the wife of her longtime boyfriend and giving them everything they’ve ever talked about, she wasn’t known for waking up with the sun. She hated when she had to wake up that early for school. She hated leaving her bed. In college, she hated it even more but she had so much to look to during those years. Even while going to college full-time and getting her leg in the Milligan family business of managing the Milligan Apartments, Jessie was also there for Cameron.

She loved her Cameron. She loved him with all her heart. He had problems and early into their relationship, she came to see some of it. His mind was almost as beautiful as the sapphire gemstones she could get lost in forever, but in those very eyes, she saw a darkness but there was light at the end of the tunnel. She helped him in every way that she could. Jessie was a force. The Milligan girls all were forces, but JJ had this special power of seeing the light before anyone else could. She was by Cameron’s side when he started therapy and through all the ups and downs on the roller coaster that has been their entire relationship, they were so happy together. They were married and had a beautiful 5-year-old gingersnap for a daughter. Jasmine April Hyde was the apple of their eyes. She had her father’s eyes and JJ’s grandmother’s hair.

And every day was a blessing with the only two people in this world who could make these early mornings where even before the sun officially rose bearable. Cameron was always up before JJ did and it took a while before she trained her body to wake up with him because between attending to the Milligan apartments as the part-time super and dropping Jas off at daycare or with Papa Charlie (whenever he could take her, otherwise it was with her parents), they only had the hour or so in the morning to spend as much time as they could with each other. Some days it was longer and some days it wasn’t even that, depending on how soon Cameron needed to be at the workshop.

Unfortunately, on this particular day, Cameron was rushing. Jessie hadn’t gotten their daughter up before he was out the door. When Jas was up and was eating breakfast - eggs, toast, and bacon - Jessie was having her coffee and saw that on the countertop, still hot to the touch, was the coffee thermos that Cameron used all the time to keep his coffee in.

A black coffee with a dash of cinnamon. No cream. She always thought her husband was a menace for that, but he was not like most in so many ways.

“Looks like daddy forgot his energy juice, Jasmine.” Jessie giggled as she watched her daughter laugh too.

“Uh oh! Dada needs energy!” The little Milligan-Hyde girl chipperly said, arms raised up in the shear excitement she was feeling.

“I couldn’t agree more, sweetie. Finish up your breakfast and we’ll get you dressed. We’re going on a road trip!”

“Yaaaay!”

Jasmine was a force just like her parents were. In what seemed like blindling speeds for the 5-year-old, she scarfed down what remained of her breakfast, drank her passion fruit juice (she was obsessed), and in twenty minutes, both mother and daughter Milligan-Hyde were out the door. JJ got Jasmine in the family’s 2017 blue Mazda Sedan and situated in her booster seat in the back seat behind the passenger’s side (she always wanted to be where her father would typically ride as she was a massive daddy’s girl).

Cameron had already had a day. He had woken up late after his usual two hour power sleep and rushed out the house without following any of his usual routines. To any normal person that would’ve been fine but for him, well Cameron needed his routines. Structure and balance helped anchor him in the wild sea of chaos that was his mind. They protected him and everyone around him from the rage that bubbled constantly beneath his surface, the rage that he promised Jessica and his baby girl Jasmine that he would keep in check.

Intermittent Explosive Disorder they called it, IED. According to the doctors and therapists it was a behavioral disorder that causes disproportionate reactions to situations in the form of anger and violence. There was little in the way of treatment for it, there was only managing it. Which was why the routines were so important, following a path allowed for Cameron to focus on his steps rather than the steps made against him. There were a handful of medications he took but he believed they were more for show than anything else, they didn’t make him feel any better but for his wife and daughters sake, he would keep pretending.

Today was an important day; Beau’s retirement party. Cam had been tasked with carving an effigy for the old man; others would call it an obituary. He had yet to start it before that day as the shop had been very busy and his workload was hefty, hence why rushing out to get an early start on something due that weekend was extremely frustrating. It didn’t help that he was nearly run over by his sister Jane’s boyfriend Spencer that morning. He didn’t like that guy all that much but he made his twin happy and that’s all he cared about. Cameron would protect his siblings and his family with his life and he had no qualms sacrificing the lives of others for them.

Sitting at his desk, carving into the wood, the carpenter did not raise his head when he heard the bell above the shop door jingle. “Hey, sorry we’re not open yet.” He spoke rather bluntly as his blue eyes fixated on his knife work. It wasn’t until he heard the pitter patter of tiny feet that he raised his head from his job and saw the beaming face and flaming red hair of his daughter with arms outstretched.

“Daddy!” She excitedly called out.

Cameron had just enough time to put his knife down and push it to the other side of the table before Jasmine leapt into his lap and wrapped her little arms around his neck. There was one other thing on the planet that could calm Hyde’s inner turmoil and that was the love of his little girl. Whenever Jasmine was around, she helped to soothe the devil within, her words and spirit washing over the flames like a cool breeze and light rainfall. She kept him sane. “Jasmine April Hyde why are you not at home young lady?”

“Because someone was in such a hurry this morning, they forgot their coffee,” JJ laughed as she walked closer to where her family was, holding the still very warm thermos in her hand. “So we just had to make a trip out of it.”

The little redhead stared fondly at her papa, though was immediately lured in by the shiny metal objects in front of her. “Ooh shiny!” She had reached out to touch them.

Jessie was trying to maintain a straight face for the sake of not encouraging Jasmine to touch the tools and whatever had her attention. It amazed her how much of both Cameron and herself that their daughter inherited. The natural attraction to her husband’s workspace mixed with the recklessness that JJ had all her life was a dangerous combo. But if there was one thing that always filled her heart it was seeing Cameron be at peace whenever Jasmine was in his lap. A true peace that just made everything make sense.

“She’s truly your daughter, Cam,” JJ snickered, setting the thermos on the table and giving her husband a kiss.

“Thank you.” Cameron held his wife’s face close with the free hand that wasn’t preventing his five year old from picking up a jagged work blade. He really could kiss Jessie forever. He hadn’t really acknowledged her in high school as he should’ve, at least not until he started the therapy. He had always known of JJ’s feelings for him and for a time he had used them to his advantage. She had social standing after all, power and privilege that Cameron, as a Southsider never could have. Even his younger brother Mika held that power in his hand with his connection to the O’Hara foundling line. Cameron did his best to exploit both of them for his own gains.

Many believed that he was a wild animal, a being of pure instinct. The reality was that Cameron Hyde possessed an indelible IQ that many could only dream of. He just had a habit of letting his emotions govern his actions. It wasn’t until he finally had what he felt was a grasp on reality that he realized that Jessica James was the love of his life and that he would marry and start a family with her. It’s what he wanted and Cameron always got what he wanted.

He kissed JJ again before freeing her so that he could focus on his baby girl. “So what are you two’s plan for the day? Are you helping prep for the party? Also whose taking Jasmine tonight, I forgot?”

She nodded, smiling at how adventurous their daughter was. She really did inherit both of their unique sense of fearlessness with Cameron’s attraction to shiny objects. They were both builders in a sense. The Milligans were the ones who built Edenridge’s infrastructure and Cameron had his woodworking. Both built things and set out foundations where anything added just increases the value and meaning of it. “I’m going to be heading over soon. Charlie agreed to watch her for the afternoon. I know she loves spending time with him and Sam.”

Her relationship with her biological father was, for the most part, still fresh. It’s been close to half of a decade. Understanding her entire background was important for her and now her family was even bigger. Jessie was still coming to terms that she was tied to the Angels, but that was something for another time to think about. “I might be able to arrange for Lamb to take her tonight, if I can sweet-talk her enough. She’s always had a weakness for my puppydog eyes and..” She glanced towards Jasmine, smiling at how utterly content her daughter was in Cameron’s lap, “she could never resist spending time with Jasmine.”

It was a strange thing, the difference that time can make. As a teenager, Cameron had constantly feuded with Clay Costigan. Whenever he saw that foppy haired rich boy it would make his blood boil. Clay had it all. He had good looks, social status, somehow he passed school with flying colors despite being an idiot and he had a station within society. Cam hated him for it, despised him for it. Yet here they were, ten years on from high school and the two men were now related through Cameron’s wife and Clay was considered an Uncle to Jasmine and the idiot's twin Laura was an aunt, who so fondly looked towards her time with the child. Time really was a strange thing.

“I mean, who could?” Looking down at his daughter, her big blue eyes twinkling as she gazed upon Cameron’s work tools, he smiled and kissed the top of her tiny ginger head. “Worst case scenario, I’ll just give my mother a call. No doubt she’d love to spend time with Jas, though I’d rather Laura take her.” Even after all the years that had passed and all the therapy sessions, there was still a huge part of Cam that couldn’t forgive his mother April for the life that he had led, the life that, in his opinion, she had forced upon him because she couldn’t control herself. Cameron had learned to be cordial with his mother, he had learned to tolerate her presence and allow her a relationship with grandaughter, that didn’t change the fact that he didn’t believe she deserved any of it, Jasmine was a treasure, a reward, April McMahon didn’t deserve to find that treasure, she deserved to drown in the search.

Cameron brushed the back of his daughter's hair as he looked towards his wife. “Thank you for this, Jess. I needed this today.”

Jessie looked at her husband. Today must have been a bad day. She didn’t know if it was just work or if it was something else. Sometimes she struggled to truly comprehend Cameron because he was such a complex person, but she knew enough to know what he needed. Being with him for as long as she has been, she’s come to slowly remove the layers of the man that remained closed off from her for so long. Jasmine was the blessing they both needed because all what seemed to not make sense to her did when she saw him hold their daughter for the first time. Similarly to how he was holding her right now. She was his center. Hell, Jasmine often reminded Jessie that no stress was too much if she could do right by her and Cameron.

It didn’t matter the reason that brought her and Jasmine to Cameron’s workshop, she was grateful that the greater powers aligned for this moment to happen at just the right time. “Did something happen today?”

“No. No.” Nothing did happen but Cameron couldn’t shake the feeling that something either did, would or was happening. Like a sixth sense or a character breaking the fourth wall, the carpenter could just sense that something was off with the world and it was forcing his hairs to stand on edge and sharpen like a thousand tiny daggers on his skin. “Just feels harder to put out the fire today, you know?” He tapped the side of his head with his index finger, signifying where the issue truly was. Cameron began to gently run his hands through his daughter's growing red mane with a smile on his face. She helped to put out the fire and he hoped to whatever celestial entity that was the puppet master begins his life that she would never see the inferno inside. “I didn’t really sleep last night. That’s probably why.”

She nodded, understanding at least a main part of what he meant. She couldn’t truly understand because she didn’t live with that fire that consumed Cameron on some days. Everyone had their off days, but for Cameron, it always seemed different. “It almost makes me think that there really is some higher power or spirit or guardian angel that arranged…this to happen at just the right moment.” She glanced down at their obviously content daughter who was just as happy and at peace in her father’s lap as Cameron was having her there. “Charlie T loves to quote the FAMC’s mantra of ‘from darkness we rise’, and I never really gave it much thought, but maybe that’s who we are. We can come from darkness and rise into light. Our Jasmine is our light. No amount of chaos is any match for the superpower she possesses. That much I’m certain of. Our blooming flower has this ability to make any soil rich with life just by merely existing and shining her light on it.”

“You’ve been spending too much time with my mom.” Cameron had done what he could to mend fences with his sole surviving parent, April. He didn’t approve of her lifestyle as a bible thumper but she had found whatever purpose in a fake God that she lacked as a mother to Cam when he was a boy. They had nothing, he grew up with nothing except the festering vile and venom that ran through his veins and it was all her fault. April had money, or at least her family did. She had a sister who was doing well for herself in Pinehurst and she chose not to ask for help, she chose not to provide for her only child. It took a long time for Cameron to forgive her for that.

However seven rehab stints and a granddaughter later, April seemed to be making strides. Cam allowed her to be in Jasmine's life which would help to provide a safe family structure, something that he himself never had. And it was a conversation JJ, where his wife said to him: ‘Maybe your Mom finally learned to be a Mom when she became a grandmother.’ It did seem like that was the case. All that Cameron knew was that he would never, ever let Jasmine feel the same way he did. He would give her every right that she could ever want and everything she would ever deserve. Nothing was going to stop him and nothing and no one would ever stand in his way lest they be buried six feet in the ground.

“Alright baby girl” Cameron bounced Jasmine on his lap slightly before kissing the back of her head and lifting off him and onto the ground. “Daddy has got to get this done before tonight, so I think it’s time for you and mommy to go on your daily adventure.”

Jasmine pouted when she was lifted off of her father’s lap. To her, even though the time spent with her daddy seemed like a lifetime to her, the worst thing was when that time was cut short. “But daddy…!” She whined, a sad expression on her face.

It broke her heart to see, even for a moment, her daughter become sad. She knew their daughter cherished her time with Cameron because it was just as much her happy place as it was Cameron’s. She knelt down to Jasmine’s level, running her hand along her daughter’s ginger locks. “Your father is right, Jasmine. He has a lot to do. Besides!” She literally lifted her daughter’s spirits up as she repeatedly raised her up to the sky, securing her daughter in her arms until Jasmine’s contagious laughter and radiant smile filled the workshop. “If you stay, you won’t get to see your Auntie Lamby, who I just know is dying to spend time with you!”

As the girl laughed, she excitedly squealed, “Auntie Lamby! Auntie Lamby!”

Like the flip of a switch, the glooming cloud that poured over Jasmine’s mood had been cleared and she was re-energized. Jessie knew it was because of the support system they had, between her girls and her family, that Jasmine could live the life she deserved. Seeing her smile was the one thing that made the tough times worth it. Seeing her with Cameron and how at peace both of them were made every bit of stress that her life came with worth it.

“That girl, I swear, she never fails to surprise me,” she mused, almost giggling, watching Jasmine do a little in-space dance, which allowed JJ enough time to give Cameron a tight hug and a series of kisses. “I’ll see you later tonight. Love you.”

“I know.” Cameron nodded as his steely gaze drifted across the visions of love that were his wife and daughter. They were so alike, even down to a light freckling that existed in the base of their necks, the curse of the ginger. “If I make some decent progress maybe we can meet for lunch. See who's about town. There’s gonna be a lot of old faces just dying to catch up.” Cam knew that one face that would definitely not turn up was that of the father he shared with Jane and Mika. He had made sure of that with the use of a rope and with the help of his long suffering wife. That monster was long buried in the dirt where he belonged and Jasmine would never know that running through her veins was the same dirty blood, the same devil’s vile and venom that cursed Cameron and his siblings with demonic thoughts and the capability to awash the world in violence and hurt.

She would never know.

“Give my best to Laura.” He refused to use that silly moniker she chose to go by; Lamb. What self respecting person would allow themselves to be named after something raised for slaughter? She was as bad as her idiot brother. The sad part was, the doofus’s daughter also happened to have become best friends with Jasmine. “Don’t get into any trouble.”

“Who us? Never. We’re complete angels!” Jessie said, just briefly before she and Jasmine left the workshop and she secured that daughter of hers, whose energy was newly rejuvenated after the prospect of getting to see her auntie Lamb was mentioned. It warmed her heart that her baby girl was able to be surrounded by so much love and not have to know what it was like to feel pain. To know what it felt like to have to suffer. To be around with so much love. Even April, her second namesake and sometimes the bane of her Cameron’s existence, has proven to be essential in being that safety blanket for her rebel of a daughter.

Not all too different than she was at one point.

She smiled and got into the driver’s seat and drove away from the southside, playing the classic bops of her childhood that Jasmine was taking a liking to.

Life didn’t get any better than this.
In Edenridge → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
FT: Spencer Kesar & Anya Kamensky Jane Taylor
Midday - What If


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Spencer had loved flying all his life.

He was born for the sky; the one thing he had left from his birth parents was a soft toy plane so being a pilot felt like it was fated. On those long, lonely nights before the Kesars brought him into their world, Spence would imagine himself piloting one of the planes he could see soaring through the sky, unknowingly shepherding the parents that left him behind to a new destination. The sky, the infinite journey across the planet, that was meant to be an escape and it was but now he had something to come home to, someone to come home to.

Jane.

It wasn’t difficult to visually fall in love with Jane Taylor. With her gorgeous green eyes, silky blonde hair and incredible body, any man or woman would literally kill to be seen standing next to her and Spencer to this day had no idea what she saw in him. However it wasn’t just her breathtaking looks that allowed his heart to soar. What really captured his soul was her wonder at the world. There were moments, which he froze in time in his head, where he would look at Jane and she would just be stood silent, staring at something as innocent as a game console with an ethereal amazement that such a thing even exists on this Earth.

He first knew her once upon a time in the orphanage, back then she was called Anya and did not speak English. She was one of the girls that left in the middle of the night and never came back. It happened more often than people liked to admit and it was a main reason as to when Spencer himself was adopted, he wanted to take a young girl called Flora with him. Thankfully, the Kesars allowed this and Spencer gained a sister. It wasn’t until his Senior year of high school that the girl with the big green eyes resurfaced in his life as Jane Taylor, transferring in after being homeschooled. Spence was assigned as her buddy to help her get acclimated with Edenridge life. Their love didn’t blossom right away but once it did it was stronger than anything and flew higher than the stars. When he was a boy, Spencer would look to the heavens above and wonder if his parents were space people who had left him there to live amongst the humans. Sometimes he looked at Jane and he wondered if she was the real visitor from the sky.

He couldn’t wait to see her, to be with her. All through the long haul flight from Perth back to Boston, all that was on Spencer’s mind was Jane and the next week of their lives. He had plans; big plans for the coming days. After Beau’s retirement celebrations were through, Spencer would be taking Jane and her parents, Charlie and Samantha to Russia. The reason? They were going to look into Jane’s family and try to find the past that someone had locked away from her. For a while she had been yearning for answers about where she came from, another thing that bonded her with Spencer; orphans in search of family. He too was going on that quest but not in the same way. Whilst he was in Australia, the young pilot had picked up a ring which now sat roomed away in his travel bag; a ring he hoped Jane would take, a ring which would tie them together forever as family.

Having just asked Sam and CT for their blessing, Spencer now stood outside of his home, his tie loose and his body aching to get out of his officer uniform and crash for a few hours before going to see Jane. It was early day time and most of Edenridge was starting their morning with aplomb, his was just ending. Spencer pressed the key into the lock of his front door and entered the house to a sweet smell…pastry? He dropped his bag by the entrance and poked his head around the corner, his kitchen light was on. He definitely didn’t leave it on. Spencer had gotten into a perfect routine before his flights and he knew that there was no reason for that light to be on. He took a few steps forward, reaching for a baseball bat before freezing. Now with a full view of the room, a smile crossed his face as he gazed upon that which made his heart skip a beat.

“Hey beautiful.”

With one airpod in her ear, so she could hear her surroundings, Jane Taylor, once upon a time Anya Kamensky, was swaying her scantily clad body to the newest playlist her cousin Jade linked her to on Spotify. Currently what was playing: Just Like Heaven by the Cure. She had set her mind on making waffles and to her misfortune, she could not find the waffle maker. That was only a minor obstacle for Jane since she learned how to cook at Dolly’s from Brandon Lyon. Using Spencer’s grill-pan, she let the waffle simmer and form ridges. While the taste and texture would be 100 percent waffle, the telltale ridges would lean more toward pancakes. No matter! Jane was improvising and making food for her man. Plus! Grill-pan waffles held syrup and butter differently than traditional waffles. Toppings pool into a luscious stream along the ridges and in all honesty, it gave each bite so much flavour. One could easily say that breakfast was Jane’s favourite meal of the day.

Her parents had given her a heads up of when Spencer was heading back to his place. They said he stopped by to see them first and she was quick to make her moves. For the past week she had worked with her best friend, Faye, to surprise her boyfriend in a way she hadn’t done before. Sexily. She had already decorated their bedroom in every way that her more experienced friend said would make him lose his mind. They also visited the ‘Panty Lady’ to get Jane lingerie in her favourite color, blue. The moment he texted her he landed, she made sure to break into his apartment and execute her plan of attack. She was hoping breakfast would be done before he arrived but it made sense he was eager to go home and go to sleep. He was up all night.

“VAL: Stop music,” Jane gently commanded her smart device, her earpiece immediately pausing her spotify. With spatula in hand, she quickly flipped the waffle before twirling herself to face her lover. “Hi, Pooh Bear! Welcome home!” She enthusiastically greeted with an innocent glint in her green eyes and a wide, child-like smile. How she was behaving contrasted how revealing her body was but teaching Jane how to be sexy would take more than just a week with her best friend. Around her neck, she wore one of the necklaces left by her birth mother and pearl stud earrings to match. While some people wouldn’t say visiting their boyfriend was a special thing, and Jane was practically wearing nothing, she wasn’t held down by social constructs and if she wanted to wear her family heirlooms, well, Jane Taylor would wear her family heirlooms.

Although it took a few years to teach her how to live a normal life, all the people she loved working in tandem to help her embrace the childhood she lost, Jane was now confident in herself, could speak fluent English and had more in life than she could ever dream of. She had a mother who would die for her and her sisters, quite literally. To this day, Samantha would stop everything if Jane cried ‘I need you’. She had a father who made a promise with her birth mother and kept to it, being the best man Jane could ever ask for and giving her an even larger family in the form of the Fallen Angels. Charlie Taylor meant so much and more to her. She still had all her sisters from the time no one really talks about anymore, seeing how the last time she saw one was yesterday. She had new family, who always kept her in her best interest, like the Taylors, the Dawsons and the Callahans. She had friends she found on her own, like those that worked at Dolly’s and loved seeing her smiling face. But more importantly? She had love. Jane had someone who was her whole world and her other half. Jane gave someone purpose and in return he loved her unconditionally, all the trauma, all the sadness and all the side effects from her past, he loved. He loved her and that really was what life was about. To love and be loved in return. She loved him too.

“I’m making waffles!” She beamed, stating the obvious which is something Jane did more often than not. She didn’t know any better and it was her cute way of showing she cared.

“I can tell!” Spencer’s face was plastered with a grin that covered ear to ear as he wrapped his future fiancée up in his arms. “Smells great!” Jane looked absolutely ravishing and as his steely eyes drank in her perfect body bathed in royal blue, he could feel the warmth of her skin on his. He could tell this was Jane’s sister Faye having some form of influence on her. Over their years together, his lover had shared parts of her past that were unthinkable to a normal person but one of the few bright spots of her stories were her sisters as she called them, Faye being the brightest. When he had met her, Spence found the Asian woman excitable, playful and a tad irritating. She was flirty and revelled in her sexuality. Faye was the complete opposite of his Jane.

As time has passed and more and more of Jane’s previous life was unveiled, Spencer found himself crossing paths with more and more people she considered siblings. Imogen. Mika and then there was Cameron. “I bumped into your brother this morning. And by that I mean I nearly ran him over with my car.” Cameron was the closest thing to what Jane could consider a twin as possible. He was a touch older than her and they shared a father and a birthday but had different mothers. In his youth, Cam was a scary guy and a bad dude but now he was a husband and a father and ran his own little carpentry business in the Southside. He was still absolutely terrifying though. “He was going to work and sent his love. Says Jasmine misses her auntie.”

Family was a common theme for Spencer and Jane. Having both been orphans and having family thrust upon them in their lives and probably was part of the reason they gravitated towards one another. The young pilot had spent many years proving himself to Jane’s chosen family whilst she immediately ingrained herself in his. Flora absolutely worshipped the ground she walked on and in turn Jane would tell Floss she reminded her of the most beautiful girl in the orphanage, Kelsey. Spencer remembered Kelsey somewhat and his lover was right, she was stunning yet from what he could recall in his nightmares, Kelsey was not a good person.

About now, Spencer would be questioning how Jane got into his house but he knew better than to ask. She had more skills in her pinky finger then he had in his entire body. Besides, how could he focus when she looked like that? “Now that the pleasantries are out of the way..” He felt her fingers tighten around his handsome pilot's uniform as their eyes locked in a deep loving gaze. “Would it be ok for me to kiss the love of my life?”

“You may,” Jane granted, putting the spatula down on the counter behind her, while keeping her attention on her boyfriend. With her chest pressed against his uniform and her hands resting on his shoulders, she was quick to take the initiative and kiss him first, having eagerly waited for his arrival for what felt like hours. The alluring blonde wanted to do that since the last time she saw him. She always wanted to be in his arms and be given all the kisses in the world that he had to offer. She wanted to give him all the kisses in the world too. She wanted him. Each and every day she wanted him.

Jane knew it was greedy of her to want so much from one person but Spencer didn’t mind. He understood the value of her need and how he, to her, was a constant which wasn’t something she had during the many years she lived in the dark. He was her first friend out of the Garden and he was the first and last person she heard from each and every day. They built a dynamic where neither could go a second without thinking about the other. It might’ve been a bit obsessive of them but at least they could say they loved and were loved. With all their heart, with all their soul, they found their other half. She giggled into their kiss, completely elated that he was home. Her hands shifted to his face, tenderly cupping him. She closed her eyes and surrendered, falling even more in love with him by the second. Jane was a being with so much love inside of her and that love all belonged to him. She belonged to him.

Spencer scooped Jane up into his arms and stepped forward a few feet, carrying the smaller woman to the nearby table and placing her down on top of it. As his hands caressed her strong thighs, the pilot took a moment away from their kiss to really think of how lucky he truly was. When Jane re-entered his life he was pining for another girl, a neighbour girl who had no interest in him whatsoever. Spence wouldn’t want to admit it but during that time; there was a darkness encroaching his thoughts, an inner monster that was scratching at the cellar door waiting to be unleashed. He had felt it all of his life and he wondered if perhaps it was his true self. Then Jane Taylor entered his history class and the trap door stopped rattling, the beast fell silent and the birds outside began to sing.

Gently, his fingers traversed the wonder that was her body, moving from her thighs and skimming her firm backside, up her back and arms until they reached the straps of her blue lingerie. Spencer smiled as he planted another soft kiss on her pouty lips with a short laugh. “You’ve been spending time with your sister while I’ve been away haven’t you?” As he felt her legs tightened around his waist, his eyes fell upon the classic jewel situated around her neck. Jane had such love for pretty trinkets such as the one she presently wore. In her mind, they were a portal to a life that she never knew but so desperately wanted to grasp between her finger tips. It was Spencer’s hope that the ring in his bag would be a perfect addition to his lover's collection. “If this is the welcome I get, I’m going to have to start doing more long haul flights.”

“Noooooooooo,” Jane protested, frowning at the idea of Spencer being gone for longer periods of time. “Video chat isn’t the real you,” she complained, her arms wrapped around him. Before he could respond, she could smell the burning of the sweet delectable treat. “Oh shoot,” she gently slid off the table, pushing him back so she could turn off the grill pan and salvage the last waffle. “Well, at least I made a bunch before this one.” She knew she ruined their moment but she couldn’t burn his apartment down. That would be the worst girlfriend move ever. “I’m sorry, my Other Half.” While sad she wasn’t kissing him still, Jane didn’t sit on her sadness for too long. Instead she grabbed the stack of waffles, holding it up to him like an offering, “We should eat and you should tell me all about your flight!”

Spencer chuckled as he took the plate of sugary goodness from his beloved and placed it down on the table where she once sat. He took off his flight jacket and hung it off the back of a chair before taking his seat at the dining table. “It was a fairly uneventful flight.” Reaching for a fork, Spence sliced a corner off of the waffle and took it into his mouth. The moan that soon escaped from between his lips was a perfect summary for how well Jane had cooked his breakfast…or technically was it his lunch? “Hey, come here.” Placing his fork down, Spencer wrapped his fingers around his girlfriend's hand and pulled her into his lap. With Jane now situated atop him, he continued to eat his breakfast, his free hands fingertips tracing circles around her back. “Some minor turbulence and I’m pretty sure Samara tried to curse a passenger but beyond that, the usual. Australia was very pretty but there’s no sight I’d rather see than you.” Cutting off another chunk from the waffle, Spence placed it into his mouth. “You should try some.” He mumbled. “Come here and give me some sugar for my waffle.”

“But you’re sticky,” Jane playfully teased, only jesting. Leaning herself to one side, she turned her head to look over her shoulder toward him. As he requested, she went in for some sugar but instead of kissing him, she licked his lips to taste the syrup and simpered, “Yes, definitely sticky.” Over the course of years, there was one thing about the shark girls that was a certainty. There was part of them that still lived in the past. Not in the sense that they lived in their trauma, even though that was still very much true and it took some girls longer to process it than others. One of those girls being Samantha, Jane’s mother, who was still trying to accept a life that wasn’t what she originally hoped for.

Most if not all of the girls had their inner child still living at the center of their heart. For Samantha, her inner child was that of a big sister always looking out for her siblings. She has channelled that in helping this town improve the welfare of kids who aren’t blessed with the best upbringing. She’s worked directly with the Southside Serpents to improve environment conditions and lessen the rate of children falling into the hands of the Shark. She’s even gone to school for social work.

Jane, on the other hand, is one whose inner child is her personality. If she wasn’t looking at the world in wonderment or intrigue, or excitement, then the chances are she’s stuck in a PTSD episode which required someone to bring her back out of. There have been nights where Spencer isn’t present, even if he very much is, where he’s talking to a wall and his Jane was that of a ghost. Voidless of emotion and hard to reach. Today she was here and she was with him. And that’s all that mattered. Today, she was Jane. “Pooh Bear!” she exclaimed. “Are we going to the party?”

“Beau’s retirement party? Of course!” Spencer had always really loved his classes with Beau. He actually had quite the love of dusty old books on long forgotten shelves. He wondered if that was some sort of passion that had been passed on from his birth parents? Yet he and his former English teachers' conversations were not limited to the written word. Beau always had the uncanny ability to relate to his students on extremely personal levels, to know something that they needed when they needed it or how to explore their interests. Spencer was sure that at some point Beau must have seen his books on aviation and then spent an entire weekend reading up on it just so he could find common ground with the teen. That was just the sort of guy that Mr Beauregard was.

Spencer brushed a strand of Jane’s hair away from her beautiful face and smiled. “I’ve got a couple of dollars saved.” He began as he tried not to lose himself in her smile. “How about after I get a few hours power nap, you and I head out to Ospreys and buy you a new dress and I can show you off to everyone at the thing and they can be insanely jealous of me?”

Wrapping her arms around her lover, Jane’s eyes sparkled in giddiness, “A new dress? Will you pick it out for me?” She gazed into his eyes and played with the chain around his neck, the dog tag that belonged to his father. “Though I’d like to think the dress I’m wearing right now is very cute.” After all, she picked it out especially for him. From behind him, she had twirled the tag around his neck and was now holding it in her hands. She embraced him and stared at it. Her mind drifted as she waited for a response for him, thinking of family and whether Spencer was happy with this life he had with her or was it too simple. Was she enough to give him purpose or did they both need to discover their roots to be whole and happy?

Jane held the tags in her hand, something she did often when they were cuddled up on the couch or laid in bed together. She liked the sound of the metal clanging together. Spencer found the dog tags hidden inside the plane plushie he had as a child. “Robinson” was the name on them. Alexander Robinson was his father; killed in an accident in basic training. Though Spence chose not to pursue the link further once he found them; he didn’t want to insert himself into somebody else’s life without them wanting him there. None of his birth family ever came for him, so it was obvious that he was meant to stay away and he was alone; except for his Jane. “We’ll pick you out something nice and blue like you like.” He smiled whilst his hands cupped her face and he became locked inside of her big green eyes. “As for this dress, well I have to say baby I really fucking like it.”

Burying the sad thoughts beneath the surface, Jane released the dog tags and kissed his lips that tasted like breakfast. It was a little peck at most, since she wasn’t thinking about anything beyond the moment they were sharing together. She nodded, pleased her purchase was worth it, “Good because I bought it just for you.” Bringing herself closer to his face, she traced circles on the back of his neck and spoke softly, “Can I nap with you, Spencer?” Polite and sweet, yet her eyes said it all. While she wasn’t acting aggressive, nor behaving in a provocative way, she looked fixedly on him with heat emitting from her body. “I really missed you.”

Spencer knew every look in Jane’s eyes. He knew when she was mad, he knew when she was sad, he knew when she was confused and he knew when there was something she wanted. Pushing his plate away, he wrapped his arms tightly around his girlfriend and began to pull them both up as he got to his feet. Within a second her legs were gripping his waist like some kind of constricting snake but he didn’t mind. He pushed his lips to hers and their tongues began to dance like only lovers could. With Jane’s body enveloping him, Spence walked them both a few feet out of the kitchen and into his bedroom where they swiftly collapsed onto the bed.

Jane has decorated the room for the action they were about to take. She had lit candles and the soft flower petals were like gentle kisses on their skin. As they began to explore each other and clothes began to fall to the wayside and heat took over their beings, Spencer gently held her face in his hand, sharing breath he could only gaze upon the beauty of this woman, this woman who was his everything, this woman who was his heart. “I’m so in love with you, Jane. I love you so much.”

“I know, my Other Half. And I’m so happy you love me,” Jane’s eyes grew a little teary, as she thought of how much she’s been through and how she was still able to heal and find love. That she wasn’t a monster that her Creator forced her to believe. She was worth love and worth a life. She wasn’t locked in a dark room anymore. She had a light and that was Spencer. “You are the most important person to me, I hope you know that.”

“I do.” Spencer knew that they were two lost souls, bound together by a trauma that dare not speak its name. “And you are to me.” They both had spent so much time wandering in the dark, clamouring at walls, scratching at floors, searching, foraging, desperate to find something or someone to cling on to and they found each other.

“I love you, my Pooh Bear.”

Thank whatever powers that be, they found each other.

“So much and more.”
In Edenridge → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
In Edenridge → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
TIMESTAMP: Sunday Evening → A Dream
A world if Allison Davies never died.





Beau didn’t know how long Eva would be gone for but there was always time enough for a good book.

Antoine’s love affair with the written word began nearly sixty years ago, in a little place off the beaten track in the heart of the French Quarter in New Orleans. As a boy, Antoine’s family had very little in the way of finances or even a decent place to live. He was the second oldest of six children, his parents Marcellus and Monique were humble people, a day laborer and a housekeeper respectively. They were good, hard working people and even as a boy, Beau wanted to do everything to help them provide for their family. Which was how, even at ten years old, Antoine found himself scouring the Quarter to find anyone willing to hire a child.

One evening, New Orleans was struck by a terrible storm and Beau was unable to make it home. The streets were closed and he was lost in the monsoon, so the boy found the only building with a light on and hid inside. He had stumbled into a tiny bookstore, which May has well been a castle. Mister Moriarty, the kindly owner, offered the boy hot cocoa and a choice of any book to read to pass the time whilst the storm raged. Antoine found his way to the classics and began reading H.G Wells “Time Machine”. Something about the idea of seeing what life could be like if things in the past could be changed was intriguing.

From that evening onward, Beau found himself immersed in books. He began walking for Moriarty, cleaning the shop and maintaining the books. Even during the brief time before he became a police officer, where Antoine tried his hand in the underworld in hopes of helping out his family, he always made the time to go back to that shop and help out. To him, they weren’t just words or stories, they were lessons, they were worlds he could inhabit and feel and relate to. It could take only one book, one life or turn of phrase to completely change a person's outlook and perception on a world fraught with trials and tribulations. Whenever Beau needed to know the answer, whenever he needed the answer to help someone he would find it in his books.

As he collapsed into the comfy chair that Colleen had got him for his last birthday, Beau’s chestnut eyes fell upon the framed photo on the side table, his five children smiling together at his retirement party. They were his world and the reason he pulled himself out of bed in the morning. The resolute twins, Desmond and Delphine. His little creatives, Genevieve and Evangeline and his wild child, Zara Antoinette. His babies. His life.

Beau picked up the book next to the photograph of his family and examined the cover. It was a simple black hardback, a silver engraved tree in the middle. There was an author's name written at the bottom but his eyes were feeling slightly heavy or at least heavy enough that he couldn’t make out the name. As VAL continued to play Sam Cooke’s magnum opus ‘A Change Is Gonna Come’ Antoine settled on the idea that he would probably go to sleep when Eva returned. He was old now, it was past his bedtime. Though if for nothing else, he could’ve sworn it was Hamlet he had left on the table…

As he prepared to open the book, he was disturbed by a thrice knock on the front door. Had Eva forgotten her keys? Probably, she often did. It was a good job that he and Collie were going to get her a talking key ring for her birthday. She always had so many ideas. He pushed himself up from the chair he had just got situated himself in and rested the book back on the table before heading towards the door once again. Opening up the heavy door, Antoine was blinded by a white hot light, like someone had immediately turned on their high beams directly into his gaze. As the brightness faded, the old man unshielded his face to look upon a familiar figure standing in his doorway.

“Hey Mister Beau! Long time no see!”

Charlie looked exactly as he did the day he……wait when was the last time Beau had seen the young native boy? He couldn’t place it. He was always one of the tallest of his students, standing a whopping six foot three. He looked happy, healthy, he was dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a buttoned down shirt and thick rimmed glasses with a book tucked under his arm. The morning…wait it was morning? Wasn’t it just the evening? Did Beau fall asleep? What was…why was his head so foggy? “Ch…Ch…Charlie it’s early, what are you doing here?”

Brushing his hand through his shaggy black hair, Charlie pulled the book out and offered it up to his former teacher. “I brought you an advanced copy of my next book to proofread. It’s not finished yet, obviously but I’d love some feedback whenever you get a chance but don’t worry about that too much right now. Just think about your party.”

“Party?” Beau was struggling to make sense of the morning, he felt like had been asleep for days and was only now just waking up, almost to a new world or so it felt like it. The faint smell of baked goods wafted through the house and the low humming of a female voice emanated from the kitchen. “Collie?” Why was he surprised to hear his wife sing? Who else would it be? He had to stop eating cheese before bed.

“I’ve said too much. Listen, have a great day, I’m sure I’ll see you at some point but I have to go and get gone before the wife wakes up. She can be cranky. Talk later Mister Beau!” Charlie jumped down the steps of the porch with a wave and climbed into a nearby car, leaving Beau alone, holding the boy's book.

“Bye Charlie.” Antoine waved as he took a few steps out of the front door to stand on the patio. Edenridge looked colorful. The sky was a light shade of blue with an orange hew sinking in the distance from the rising sun. He looked out to see the earlier risers heading to work, walking their dogs or jogging around the housing cul-de-sac that looked like it had been copied directly from the American dream itself. He could smell the damp of a summer's rain and Colleen’s wildflowers in bloom. It smelled cleaner.

Turning and entering back into his home, Beau wondered why his head felt so cloudy? It was as if he had been drinking the night before and had only just awoken to the world. He was clinging to a thought, a whisper, the last breath of a dying fantasy. Something carried on the current of the soft summer wind made him think that something just wasn’t right. Something wasn’t as it should be and he might possibly have crossed over into the uncanny valley. He walked by the sign for his retirement party and towards the kitchen where he could hear his wife.

It was as if it was a dream…

In Edenridge → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
TIMESTAMP: Sunday, July 25th
FT: Antoine & Evangeline Beauregard
Sylvester James


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Sitting in her father’s chair, Evangeline Beauregard, the second youngest of Mr. Beau and Colleen’s children, played notes on her travel keyboard of one of her songs she was creating for Kimber Bedlam’s next theater musical, Afternoon Daydream. A story that focuses on a cafe that attracts dreamers. The main characters, all young adults coming from different walks, navigate through love, friendship and the pressure of life in hopes to find their center and purpose. It showcases the everyday struggle of small town people, who need to survive but who want more than this provincial life. Those who are mad and can’t help but dream.

This would be her big break because up until this job, she was making songs for small troupes and starving musicians hoping they’d get lucky at one of their gigs. Freelance mostly. It wasn’t until two people, known by everyone on Broadway as the newest It Couple, approached her in Pittsburgh of all places, while she was busking for some extra cash. Eva had pride and didn’t like calling her parents for help unless she desperately needed it. She recognized them immediately as the young and gifted playwright and filmmaker, Kimber Benson (now Bedlam) and the prolific American actor and singer, rising to prominence for his work and his portrayal of Aaron Burr in Hamilton, Maxwell Bedlam.

Entertainment business was all about luck and by fate, she was given a little chance encounter that might be what separates her from her siblings, giving her parents maybe something to hang up on the wall since she wasn’t one with academic achievements nor did she participate in many competitions. All she ever had was her pen, paper and piano. Simply by singing a song she wrote with her father, she was able to win the heart of a couple who wasn’t even that older than her but who had their breakthrough in highschool.

Eva kept up with trends, ratings and those leading the industry. A month ago, the stars aligned and who knows? Maybe she would be able to go to La La Land as the most commercially successful composer and lyricist of all time, like Gaston Leroux, or maybe she would be able to change the world of musical theater like Leonard Bernstein. If only she could be like the greats, just like the Bedlams were swiftly becoming. What also benefited her was when she found out the premise of Kim’s working play, it reminded her a lot of her father and couldn’t help but talk about her own experiences helping him run a cafe, how he was a former English professor and prior to that, he was an officer. How much of a role model her dad was in her hometown and to her.

To say she piqued Kim’s interest was an understatement and now excitedly Eva wondered if the celebrity couple would visit Edenridge for inspiration. Until then though, she needed to keep making songs and pray she was exactly what they want and need. This was her someone-in-the-crowd and she couldn’t fuck it up. Staring at her small notebook while playing on her travel keyboard (it was on a stand), Eva listened to the nostalgic melody which focused on two childhood friends getting pulled away from each other because of the forces of their environment. Tapping her pencil on her paper, she stopped pressing the piano keys and whispered some words, “...I finally opened up. For you I’d do anything. But here I sing, and you aren’t listening to me. Can’t you recall when this all began? It was you and me. It was only me and you…”

She scribbled a couple more lines about the boy being pushed to the edge with his vice and the girl feeling hopeless, not knowing what to do. All the boy did was drown her out with his music, the song of his heart, and failed to see what was in front of him. The song was a desperate cry from a girl madly in love, wanting to be seen, and a wake up call for the boy, who desperately needed to come to his senses. If he just grabbed her hand, he’d be okay. They’d be okay. Whatever they did, be it big or small, they could do it together. They would always have each other and yet the song was bittersweet, because it was the girl coming to terms that he would never look her way. Not in the way she wished he would. This was her afternoon daydream but it ends with them walking past one another, in a way that only strangers would.

Antoine was amazed at all the things his children had accomplished in their young lives, so much more than even he could’ve predicted. Each had grown into their own person beyond the shadow of the cafe owner and his beloved wife, Colleen. Desmond was serving their country, Delphine was serving her community as a lawyer, Genevieve and Eva were serving their creative sides and Zara was serving the public as a hairdresser. Each of his children, for all their differences, were giving themselves to a cause that they believed in and which was greater than themselves. Selfless was only one word to describe the Beauregard brood.

Beau was startled at the end of another busy shift at Rochambeau when he returned home to find a light on inside. He knew he had turned them all off when he had left earlier that morning and Colleen was away for the weekend, visiting Genevieve in New York City and watching her slay Jennifer Hudson in a production of Dreamgirls. He was taken aback by something fierce when he entered the home, his service pistol drawn and he found his second youngest baby playing her piano and writing a beautiful melody. He needed to change where he hid that spare key.

Coming up behind his daughter as she sat in his chair, Antoine rested his hands on her shoulders before kissing the top of her head. He had learned to navigate the wild curly hair that Evangeline had inherited from her mother. “Ça a l'air magnifique ma petite fille.” The former police officer missed speaking French in the Quarter. When he and Collie moved to Edenridge with their children, he discovered fairly quickly that he was definitely not in New Orleans any more. His beloved had warned him of the ghost stories and the monsters that lurked beneath her hometown but Beau had never been the superstitious sort despite growing and maturing in a world enveloped in the fog of Hoodoo, Voodoo and Black Magic. He believed in the evil of man’s heart but also the good and that was the part he had dedicated his life to. “Are you happy with it, mon Cherie?”

“Hi, daddy,” Eva closed her notebook, leaving her pencil inside it, before placing it on the keyboard. “Um, yes and no. I know what I got is good but I want it to be better. I’ve been working on this song specifically far longer than the other ones for my client. It’s just,” she briefly paused as she stared at the keys of her travel instrument, contemplating what she was missing and why her song just didn’t feel there yet. She looked up at her father and sighed, “You and mom have this profound love story and I’ve had two boyfriends that all ended with a mutual break up. One because he and I were far too committed to our own pursuits and it just never felt like we were dating in the first place and the other because he thought he was too grounded for me and didn’t want to hold me back.” There was no bitterness in Eva’s voice when she talked about her exes and if anything, she was glad they maturely let things go before it became toxic and they did start hating each other. She wasn’t so attached to them that she needed to keep the romantic flame alive. At least with one of them, she would still consider him her friend but she wondered if she simply was missing something and just didn’t understand what the concept was all together. How could she write about love if she never experienced it, truly? Not young, first love but the kind of love that gets immortalized in classic literature. A soulmate kind of love. A love that lives forever and throughout history. A love so strong, it’s painful.

“I get it, I’m very whimsical and I’m always traveling and that’s hard to commit to. But,” she explained, her creative madness spinning in her head as she tried to make sense of her thoughts, threading all the pieces together. The song was clearly there but she was trying to find the heart of it. Gently pushing her keyboard stand to the side, she stood up to offer her father his seat as she rambled on, “This song is supposed to be about people you know are supposed to be… but they have so many obstacles that force them apart, that they never do cross the line and all they’re left with is what if. I guess if I knew the feeling of what it meant to love someone like you love mom, maybe I wouldn’t constantly rip my music sheet and start over. I can’t be stereotypical either and have just another love song. No. This song is meant to be sad because these lovers will never know even though it’s so clear they’re meant to be together. Am I making sense?”

“You’ve never made sense in the twenty three years since I first held you in my arms in that hospital room and wept.” Beau moved around the chair to meet his child’s gaze and offered out his hand for her to take. “VAL: Play the Cafe Playlist.” The small orb on the side table illuminated itself at the sound of Antoine’s dulcet New Orleans drawl and burst into life with the music of Beau’s favorite artist, the legendary Sam Cooke.

As “Bring it on Home” played around them, the elderly man pulled his child from her seat where he entwined his fingers with hers whilst wrapping his other arm around her waist to dance along to the music. Music had always carried such power in the Beauregard household. When Antoine was a boy, he and his parents would often take part in Mardi Gras, his father playing trumpet and his mother the trombone. Even after they had passed, he would always go with their instruments in hand to make sure they never missed a show. When Beau was an active police officer, it would be the music that helped center him after a particular horrific evening on the beat.

There was one instance in particular that he remembered. He had yet to make detective and was still nothing but a beat cop when he became the first responder to a scene. Three little girls, mutilated by the train tracks. After handing over to the “real police” Beau drove to Tulane University and climbed into bed next to Colleen, they had only been dating a few months and she held him close whilst he wept. He awoke the next morning to find her dancing so gracefully in the kitchen to Nina Simone’s Sinnerman whilst cooking breakfast and he knew then that he wanted to marry that woman.

He proposed a week later.

Desmond and Delphine never had the ear for music that Beau would’ve liked, they had too much of Collie in them. Evangeline and Genevieve though? Those girls would sit for hours listening to Antoine’s old vinyls. They would sing and they would dance and they would brighten the world with the stars in their eyes. It was no wonder both now shone so bright. “Love is out there for us all, baby girl. Some find it, others don’t. That’s a sad cross we all bear.” He looked deep into his daughter's eyes and offered a supportive smile. “It’s something we long and yearn for. It’s what makes the word turn. You don’t need to plan roots to find it. For you, it’ll happen when you least suspect, I mean who couldn’t love that face? Or your mama’s hair?”

After blowing some of her curls up when her dad complimented her hair, Evangeline softly put her toes dressed in yellow bumblebee socks on top of his feet. Something they’ve always done, ever since she was young. She’d put her little toesies on his feet, usually he was dressed in business casual shoes like old oxford sneakers, and he’d lead them in a playful dance. Holding onto him, she grumbled, “That’s not the point, daddy. The point is, I need this song to be perfect but I’m doubting myself because maybe I’m out of my element.” Even if she acted like his advice was not needed, her expression betrayed her as her mind lingered on his words.

Getting boys to like her was easy, but being with a boy that she could see a future with? That wasn’t. Her type, at least what she thought it was, were intellectual boys with clear passions. Dean loved his ghost stories and being part of the journalism club, he also had an eccentric group of friends she enjoyed being around from time to time. Her other ex, Terrence, she met in Atlanta. An aspiring filmmaker who didn’t see beyond his vision. She already knew getting involved with him wouldn’t be easy, seeing how she traveled a lot and he was innately selfish but she tried it and it led to her breaking ties because he really didn’t care about her mind and her aspirations. It was his way or the highway and that kind of mindset, be it friendship or lover, would never work for a child of Colleen and Antoine. They all were their own individual, fierce ones at that, and each had a mind of their own. They couldn’t be kept on a leash, and that was a simple fact.

Her healthiest relationship was with Dean who she didn’t really date until after he turned eighteen and even then they were just friendly, hardly intimate, and it felt like she was helping him get over his trauma from the shooting than them actually having sparks and a heated honeymoon phase. Love was weird. She thought logically, if she dated a friend or a guy passionate about something, just like her, she would feel something but in the end, all she felt was loneliness and realizing what they had was not love. Not really. Terrance liked the validation she gave and Dean was… simple. Sweet. She craved something interesting, challenging but she also needed someone who understood that she wasn’t always all there. Sometimes she just got lost in the clouds. At the end of the day, it was her dad who brought her back to Earth and reminded her of what really matters. She loved her dad, ridiculously so and if he would be her forever love, that was okay in her book. She didn’t need a husband when she had the best dad in the world.

“Mon petit, you wouldn’t have been asked to write the song if people didn’t believe in you.” Beau was instantly transported back years as Evangeline placed herself atop his feet. There was nothing more precious to him than a dance with his girls or a quiet Sunday watching the game with his son. Like his middle child, Antoine had always carried self doubt in his heart. Was he good enough to catch a criminal? Was he good enough to teach? Could he make a decent cup of coffee? Was he the right person to try and make a difference in the lives of those that he felt needed it?

What gave him the right?

“You’re not out of your element, sweetness. You’re the periodic table.” Beau was smiling from ear to ear as he danced with his baby girl. Before he could say another word, there was a knock on the front door. Stopping the movement, Antoine tapped a finger on Eva’s nose with a little smile. “Hold that thought, button. I’ll be back.” He propped her back down onto the floor before he made his way to the other side of the sitting room to the front door, opening it up to be greeted by a familiar face.

“Sylvester? To what do I own this fine pleasure? I promise my beignets are up to code.”

“Are you free?” Sly’s exasperatedly asked, his expression distraught as the weight of the world looking like it was just about to push the officer over the edge. Rocky was known for his strength. For being a boulder throughout adversity, throughout the harsh climate change, and throughout all his losses that try time and time again to force him into the dirt he came from. The thing about strong people is, they didn’t start off strong. They know what it means to be weak and they fight. They have a reason to keep going even if they had the things they love ripped away from them and they’ve had blows straight to the heart trying to destroy them. Even strong people need support. Sylvester “Rocky” James was no exception. “I need to clear my head but if this isn’t a good time, I—”

“OH SNAP! I forgot I had something to do,” Eva rushed around her dad’s house to gather her things, having received a text from her brother. Internally, she felt impending dread that Desi would be mad at her for forgetting to pick him up. It was going to be a surprise for their dad. All his children back, like the good old days. Hurriedly and with a little struggle she put her shoes on over her bumblebee socks. Eva’s style was always fun and eccentric. Today she wore a long teal floral maxi skirt, loose white tank, light blue washed out jean jacket, fun socks and combat boots. With her leather tote hanging over her shoulder, she scurried beside her dad to give him a kiss on his cheek. “Love you daddy,” Evangeline beamed brightly before quickly waving at Officer James, “Hello and goodbye Mr. James. It’s good to see you. And he’s free! Make yourself at home.” As much as she wanted to make conversation, she was in a rush and luckily for her, Sly was good at getting the hint.

The officer stepped to the side so she could rush past him and gave a weary smile, unable to bury his depressive state, especially now that he was near one of the few people he trusted with all his heart. “Good to see you too, Eva. Now, you better not speed. Don’t need you getting in an accident. No place is worth rushing to if it risks your life. Remember that.”

“Yes. Absolutely. Got it. No speeding. Thanks!” Prancing down the front porch stairs and getting to her silver 2018 Subaru Outback, her green 2000 Subaru Volkswagen met the end of its life not too long ago, Eva rummaged through her bag. There was an immediate look of bewilderment. She couldn’t find her keys and she could’ve sworn she put it in there. She checked again.

“Two seconds, son. And I’m all yours.” Beau motioned for Sly to take a seat on one of the porch chairs that he had overlooking the street before heading back into the house for a moment. He headed to the kitchen and looked upon a hand carved wall hanger, which had a photo of every Beauregard and beneath each image, a key hook. As sure as the worth of gold, beneath Eva’s beautiful smile sat her car keys. Antoine quickly grabbed them as well as two sodas from the fridge before hurrying back to the porch. He placed the drinks in front of the police officer before tossing the keys to his daughter. “Remember me as a time of day, darling. That way you never forget!” He called out.

After watching Evangeline drive away, nearly allowing a cab to sideswipe her, Beau took his seat next to Sly and his jovial smile harshened slightly. Something was seriously wrong with his brother in blue. “What’s the matter boy?”

Where should he even start? Holding the pop given to him and pulling the tab off with his pointer finger, in one single hand motion, Sly looked out at the friendly neighborhood that Beau resided in. Eastbrook was quaint, full of history and families of all sizes. One of the more private streets, Rosebury Loop, where it reaches a deadend, at times felt like its own little world. Peaceful even with the Ossos living across the street. It housed one of the founding families, the O’Briens, who left Scott Street and immersed themselves into the community by not living in the heavens, or Scott Street as this town calls it, like most of the royalty do.

Sly could see the allure of this street. It felt like it was straight out of an old-world storybook. Charming with mossy trees that hang down the sidewalks and homes, 18th and 19th century wood frame houses, colorful doors and a feel where you want to take a slow walk to be part of this timeless picture. It made sense why the Beauregards moved here. This street was made for someone like Beau. In truth, Sly had considered for a while now, ever since Max passed away, of finally renovating his old friend’s house and moving there. Not too far from here, on Hanging Hill. Scary story aside, it was in far better condition than his Uncle Woody’s house, a safer neighborhood and just a different experience. An opportunity for growth. Maybe he was just getting tired of staying in the same place while everyone else moved. Everyone else tried to leave their past behind. He was living it each and every day, especially when another kid died and he failed to save them.

His house was full of memories, both good and bad. A reminder of how far he’s come and how nothing about it has changed. People can come and go, and most recently his house has seen more activity with Mordechai’s family. The house itself - all the same. His girls were only babies when his brothers, his blood brothers, used to visit, trying to get some money off him. They used to play it off as if they were healing and trying to do better. What they really were doing was guilt tripping him on moving back to the compound, where he belongs. He had nieces and nephews that would love to meet their Uncle Sly.

Hell, even his uncle Woody was trying to see if they were genuine or not. Obviously bridges were burnt and they didn’t have their happy ending. It didn’t help Vicky wanted nothing to do with them after all they’ve put Sly through. When he was with her, he felt like he had no spine. All he wanted was to make her happy and it seemed a relationship with his brothers was only going to destroy his own family in the end. So Sly decided to put his efforts into everything else: his children, the wife, this town and burdensome secrets.

Life didn’t always feel worth it. Sly wasn’t a quitter though. No matter how much time weathered him down, he fought and he’d keep fighting until he absolutely couldn’t anymore. He knew clinging to those that gave him purpose, keeping those that center him, like Mr. Beau, close, and grasping onto the little things that make him smile and never letting go… that’s what really counts. And yet, he could feel the constant pain that stems from years of hardship.

He didn’t want to fail his family and yet, one of his little girls was murdered and the other one was going through hell, hanging by a thread as she relived the moment of seeing the love of her life die by the hands of her father. He knew he was failing kids like him. He sees Mordechai every day now and prays. He doesn’t even believe in God but he sure enough prays. Prays he could make it up to him, a kld that’s like a son to him, for not being the rock he needed when Danny died. If Mordechai couldn’t breathe, Sly would’ve done what was in his power to help him find oxygen. Rocky had already failed his friends. No longer talking with any of his serpent brothers like he used to when he was young. The failure kept growing, the mistakes even larger and impossible to repair and Sly was still here. Why the fuck was he still here? “I don’t know what I’m doing, Beau. I feel like… I don’t know. I’m not good at this, I’ve never been good at this. I just needed you.”

“Well I’m here my brother.” Beau reached out with his giant hand and placed it atop Sly’s burly shoulder, brushing off the weight of the world so that his fellow officer only felt his presence instead. “And I always will be.” Leaning back in his chair, Antoine took a sip from his soda and glanced out at the town he called home. “You know when I first moved here with Collie and the kids, she said to me that Eden wasn’t a place for good men yet in all the time I’ve called this place home, I’ve met a lot of good men. Not all of them start out that way though but they get there.” He offered Sylvester a knowing glance. The teacher was aware of his current company's previous past wearing the serpent insignia but he didn’t hold that against him. Hell, Beau would consider Reynaldo Senior one of his closest friends. “I was having a conversation with a student recently and he was having worries about not being good enough about walking that other path. And I told him, all you have to do is try. Are you still trying, Officer?”

“Of course I’m trying,” Sly took a sip of his drink and leaned back in his own lounge chair. “I never stop trying,” he ranted. Exasperated and exhausted. Two words that described the officer nearing his wits end. Sighing to himself and resting his can on his leg, Sly glanced over to his friend and admitted, “And there, I believe lies the problem, right?” He shook his head clearly at war with himself and sipped again from his drink. “You think after all these years, I’d be so tough that I wouldn’t get hurt. I lie to myself thinking I’m unbreakable but days like these come around and remind me that what I do doesn’t really do much does it? I’m just here and I’ll always be here. And I’m small in the grand scheme of things. Rocky, the legend. Rocky, the badass. Rocky, the failure more like it.”

Beau had been where Sly had been. He had traveled down and parked on that road so many times that he had lost count. “There comes a time, multiple times actually, where a man will be tested and he will fall. We will all fall. The true measure of a man isn’t some grand mark he leaves on the world. It isn’t some legacy or legend. The true mark of a man is the love he leaves behind, the love that lives in the hearts of the people that he loved so fiercely. Your baby girl, she has had a life fraught with danger and pain yet when she is at my cafe and she is talking about you? The love in that girl's big green eyes is brighter than the sun. That’s your legacy. Maxine is your mark. We’re all small, Rocky, just specs of stardust in the grand scheme as you put it. But what a scheme.”

Being in Beau’s presence did relax him as he listened to the sage words of a man that walked a hard road, similar yet different. Life was full of hardships and they were all our own. Laying his head back, Sly inhaled and exhaled, taking in this moment and accepting it for what it was. A talk he needed. However long or small, when he was with Beau he didn’t feel as lost. This man didn’t even realize how much of a compass he was for many people of Edenridge. He meant too much to many people. Without him, this town would go into chaos.

How lucky Sly felt knowing that he met such a wonderful human being. One of a kind. The best of them. Because Sly knew Beau, he would be changed for good and that was more than enough reason to keep trying. “How do you do it, old man?” Sly opened his eyes, smirking. At least in this space, in this time, all of Sly’s worries had lessened and it could all be because he needed a gentle reminder of his measure. Doesn’t matter what side of the train tracks you live on. The violence? That doesn’t prove a thing. Good people could still burn someone and bad people could save someone from a burning building. All that was part of a bigger picture. A story. What matters is that everyone was looking at the same night sky, the same sunset and sunrise, the same sun and the same moon. And everyone wanted one thing. To love and be loved. Even if he was small in the grand scheme of things, he had someone who made him feel like he could carry the universe. He had a daughter who looked up to him and the last thing he needed to do was let her down.

Beau joined Sylvester in staring at the stars. All around the world, there were an uncountable amount of people doing the same thing as they were: living, It was times like this, wistful times with good friends which forced an old man to reminisce about bygone days. Beau had led a good life if not a hard one but he knew that there were six people that made it all worthwhile and then another few million on top of that. Some might change the world, some might leave it altogether. Every single one is different, everyone the same. In the end, they were all part of the same book. He looked at Sly one more time and took another sip from his drink.

“One page at a time…”
In Edenridge → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Introducing: Hennessy James & Spencer Kesar
Wednesday Morning, July 21st


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Happy One Month Anniversary in Heaven, Daddy.

Wearing a dark blue long sleeves shirt and jean shorts with patches all over it, Hennessy James stood in front of Osprey Original Tailors on Main Street with a chocolate croissant in one hand and caffè mocha from Rochambeau’s in the other. She was supposed to be grocery shopping for her family but instead she was staring at a beautiful dress she could never afford. People would find her to be a bit strange, imitating one of her favorite movies, but she found the classics to have such hope and feel good notions in them. Aubrey Hepburn’s character, Holly, from Breakfast at Tiffany's, might’ve seemed like she wanted the lavish lifestyle that wealth offered, but the reality was, money provided stability. Holly wanted stability. Hennessy wanted that too.

To have wealth of any amount, the twenty one year old wondered where her life would be. Hennessy didn’t care about being a princess, like all the girls that resided on Scott Street. She didn’t even care if she ever left the Hallow, or what everyone in this town called Jamestown. She didn’t care if this beautiful gown ever left the boutique for her to wear at tea parties or a ball where she could stumble as she tried to waltz, even if it really was a gorgeous dress and the muted blue would look great on her. She didn’t care what money could get her specifically. What she did care about was the idea of money and how much that would change everything for her family. How much that would solve all their problems.

If she had money, she could make Miss Carol’s trailer into a big house and fill her fridge with a bounty of food so she could eat like a queen. She could help Georgie go to school for business or finance, since out of all of them, she’s always been better with that kind of stuff. Honestly, with the rumors of a new hotel, maybe that meant a better job opportunity for her. And you know what would help with that? Money. Georgie could get the best business attire so she looked the part. She could take etiquette lessons so she aced her interviews. All this could be provided, if only they had money.

Hennessy could give Scout the proper medical attention she needs for her narcolepsy and maybe even put a playground on their compound so she didn’t have to trek to town with a big cousin to watch her constantly while she played on the monkey bars. Hyper as can be. For Blade, she would buy the best makeup and send him to Hollywood so he could learn from the greatest artists and celebrities of beauty and glam. For Billy, she would make sure to give him the largest library, like that in Beauty and the Beast. He could read to his heart’s content and all the books would be his, to keep in perfect condition.

And for her brothers? She’d be able to afford a headstone for Landon and make it a birdbath to show his gentle soul. A peaceful place where birds can come and go for water and sustenance. And Bucky, he didn’t need much. He was content with his construction job and he liked to carve with his knife, so for him, really the money would be for when he ever wanted to go out to be in the company of others and drink beer. A beer fund. Maybe. Bucky was hard. He wore their dad’s clothes and he played their dad’s guitar. He preached time and time again he didn’t need much. He was happy just using his money for the family.

Regardless of how simple her brother is, she knew that money was the answer to all her family’s problems and money wasn’t something they had. Sighing to herself, Hennessy strolled to a sidewalk bench and took a seat, finishing her breakfast before she absolutely had to head over to My Darling Food Mart. The sun gleamed on her pale skin and she soaked in the beauty of the early morning. Her time at Osprey’s was always so peaceful. She cherished it. Just like Holly cherished her time at Tiffany’s. She liked that movie a lot.

Spencer Kesar’s mood was all over the place. In one sense he was happy because he had spent the summer interning with Virgin Delta, shadowing Captain Leigh Robinson on his daily routine before a flight, spending time with the ground crew as they managed passenger baggage, he checked the flight systems and worked alongside the boarding crew. It has always been Spencer’s dream to fly.

He didn’t know much about his life prior to the orphanage. He was just a baby when he was taken there by his birth parents. All he was left with was a blanket and an airplane plush. As a child, he would clutch onto that toy, keeping it close to his chest as he looked out at the stars and the night sky. Sometimes Spence would imagine that his parents were space explorers who knew they couldn’t take their son on a perilous journey and so decided to leave him in the “safety” of the orphanage, hoping a nice family would take him in until they could return from their adventure and take him to his new world; which they never did.

Then when things began to get real and the harsh realities of the world he found himself in revealed themselves, Spence saw the sky as an escape. Thus he studied hard, he took every opportunity he could get to get out when he could. It became his life goal to fly him and his friends out of danger and into the great blue yonder where they could be free. Paramount to this was his friendship with another young orphan, Flora or Floss as he would come to call her. Spencer saw such light in her, it was fetish and neon but it was warm and loving. Floss became his little sister in every sense of the word and when the time came for him to finally escape, when the Kesar family chose him to be their son, Spence insisted on bringing Flora. Trent and Monty Kesar were more than happy to oblige.

He loved his adopted parents; they were good people. After years on the road, traveling with bands and partying the world away, Trent and Monty settled back into life in their hometown with their new kids. He opened his own tattoo studio while she began working with animals at the shelter. To look at the Kesar’s, all dressed in leather and dirty hand shirts, covered in tattoos, one might think they were the wrong type of human being but nothing could be further from the truth; they were the best of humankind. Spence would always give them shit but they were as dear to him as anyone ever could be.

For all intents and purposes, the young man should’ve been happy but he wasn’t. Part of him was in a great state of anger. Vivian Lucasta had canceled on him again, a pattern which kept on rearing its ugly head over the heads of their friendship. Spence had lived next door for years and had always liked her. He had been honest about his feelings too but she turned him down. That was fine, that was ok. He was willing to put in the work but she seemed so distant lately and it was hurting him. It was going to be ok, he was used to not being wanted.

Having dropped off a book for Shane, an old friend, Spencer departed Osprey’s with his hands tucked away in the pockets of his Levi’s jacket and his messy blonde hair hanging over his eyes. Looking like he did, he should not have been in the fine apparel establishment. Now he had to go and buy Floss some chocolates or she’d get very angry with him. She was having her little boyfriend round for “studying” later that night and had tasked Spence with finding the perfect snack. Glancing over to his right, the would-be pilot noticed a gorgeous young woman sitting in a bench nearby and he thought to himself, perhaps she would know what the best candy to get a sixteen year old was….asking her would be weird though. Don’t be weird, Spencer.

“Excuse me?” He began before a smile stopped any further words coming out his mouth for a second. “No, sorry. Ignore me. I was about to ask a really stupid question. Didn’t mean to interrupt your breakfast.”

Covering her mouth, she mumbled, “Wait.” Hennessy wondered why he was so quick to retreat. All because she was eating food? Did she have something on her face? Did she look foreboding? Unapproachable? If she was giving off a bad vibe, she would want to know. It wasn’t that she had a resting bitch face was it? Frowning behind her hand as she finished chewing, she watched him while her mind was going one thousand miles per hour.

Oh, lord. She was overthinking now.

Finishing chewing her chocolate croissant, placing her food on a napkin, which was on her lap, and resting her mocha down by her foot, she looked back up at him and gave a soft, sweet smile, “I don’t believe in stupid questions, so please ask away.”

“Oh, OK.” Spencer took a step closer to the young woman. Now that he could see her more clearly, he was taken slightly aback by how pretty she was. Her smile was incredibly bright and inviting, she reminded him a lot of someone, but who he couldn’t place. “Well this is going to sound really random but…I need to buy some snacks for my sister and she thinks she’s being funny by not telling me what to get her. I was hoping that maybe you’d have some inkling as to what to get an overly happy sixteen year old and her boyfriend?” Spence brushed some of his dirty blonde hair away from his face so he didn’t seem to unkemptor appear like some vagrant up to mischief. “I know I know, it sounds crazy weird but if you met Flora you’d understand….well kind of…”

Flora.

Hennessy took a moment to think about the name and why that sounded familiar. After a couple of seconds, she snapped her finger, “That’s the cutie at the animal shelter sometimes helping her mom? I sometimes volunteer there, when I’m not babysitting a bunch of troublemakers. She wears a lot of colors,” Hen chuckled at the thought of the little blondie with pink and blue tips.

“Yeah!” So this girl volunteered with his Mom and his sister; Edenridge had always seemed like a small world unto itself and this latest coincidence just reaffirmed that. “She helps Mom out from time to time, though how she doesn’t give those animals an aneurysm with all that color is beyond me.” Spencer shrugged as he took a seat next to Henny but gave her plenty of space so as to not encroach. “She likes to play games. This is her latest one. ‘How to make my big brother do unnecessary shit for me’. Anyway, think you can help me out?”

“Depends. Can I get a name?” The young lady with dark hair, blue-green eyes, and gentle mannerisms smirked at the boy, before introducing herself, “Hennessy. I know. Don’t judge. My family calls me Hen or Henny. And you?” As she waited for his response, she grabbed a napkin out of her tote bag to clean her fingers.

Balling the napkin in her hand, her adorable smile never leaving her face, she admitted, “First time I’ve had company during my breakfasts here, it’s nice.” Amicable and kind. Two words that have been used to describe this young James girl time after time. Her gaze went from her hands back to that pretty dress on display before looking back at him, waiting patiently.

“Spencer.” He responded. “Spencer Kesar.” He could already tell that the young woman’s attention was diverting quickly, moving away from him and to the pretty dress in the window of Osprey’s. “You like that dress?” The long haired boy examined it intently and had to admit to himself that he knew very little about fashion. His father wore bowling shirts and big hats, his mother wore exclusively band merchandise and his little sister looked like a Jackson Pollock painting. Despite his friendship with the Osprey heir apparent Shane, arguably the most fashionable straight man in the history of ever, the two rarely talked about the clothing world. Shane had very much distanced himself from his fathers empire, only ever bothering to be involved when his father was down a model.

His mind lingered on her mention of eating breakfast alone. How could a girl this sweet, at least from first impressions, and beautiful be so alone? Spencer could hear it in her voice, that same sadness he knew that he carried with him. That perpetual feeling of being an outsider. “You know, if you like that dress, my friend's Dad owns the store, I can probably get him to get you some kind of discount?”

“Oh no! I could never. I know Shane. He’s one of my first friends here,” Henny started tearing at the napkin, little by little on her lap, not really paying attention to where it fell. “He offered to just buy me things from here but I could never. I’d feel really guilty plus a dress like that would look so silly on me.” Self conscious now, she looked away from the boutique and to the boy beside her. “Shane texts me occasionally when he’s back from his charters or to check up on me. I told him from the get go to never ever buy me expensive things. I care much more about gifts from the heart. And it’s not so much the dress… okay, you’re going to find this very silly of me.”

The tissues started to cover her croissant and her lap. “My family and I don’t really have much but we make by so when I see this shop or the pretty girls that come in and out of it, I like to think of scenarios of what I’d do if I could afford something like that dress. Honestly, all my money would go to my family. Maybe we’d be able to turn our dump of a home into something worth visiting. Where I live, people tend to forget it exists.” When she ran out of napkins, her eyes fell down on her lap. “Oh, sorry… I made a mess… habit.” Blush graced her face as she began to clean up. She put her croissant back in its baggie and in her tote, then she proceeded to sweep the tissue with her hand. Standing up, she scurried to the trash can, leaving her things behind, like her tote with her wallet in it, already having trust for this stranger, and came back to rejoin him.

Spencer was a little taken aback by the openness and willingness to share that the stranger called Hennessy had. She didn’t know him from Shane, yet here she was barking her heart and her history, anxiously so based on the shredded napkin that now stained his dark jeans. He wouldn’t even know where to start if she had asked him to share anything of himself with her. As open and as loving as his adopted parents were, Spencer did not share their ability to communicate in the same way Floss did. He has always been private and on the few instances that he had offered someone a peek behind his messy blonde bangs, they didn’t like what they had seen. It made him wonder if the blood that ran through his veins was cursed. Not that he ever cared to try and work out who he was. For all intents and purposes, the boy he should’ve been was dead.

“It’s very sweet of you to think of your family first.” Spence smiled, doing what little he could with his limited capabilities of making someone feel happy or comfortable. “I don’t really have much either.” The aspiring pilot lamented. “Like we don’t have a lot of money but we get by on what we do have. I guess we’re lacking more in time? If that makes sense? Everyone is always so busy which is fine but I guess sometimes they might forget I exist.” Spencer let out a little chuckle to mask his feeling as his words echoed Henny’s.

Both of his parents had quite time consuming jobs and Flora was at the age where she didn’t need to rely on her big brother any more. If he was brutally honest with himself, Spence would have to admit he didn’t have a great deal of friends and those he did have had better friends than him. Shane had JP, Natalia and that manic nympho girl, Adderall or whatever her name was. Vivian had Mara and Jill. Spencer was pretty lonely, all things considered. All he had was the sky and it was all he needed…or at least that’s what he told himself.

“It’s not as sad as it sounds. Honest. I know my family loves me. I mean they chose me. Sorry that went too deep, I get in my head sometimes. Anyway!” Spencer clapped, trying to shatter the glass house he was building around himself with his words. “Let’s just ignore that and focus on the task at hand. Candy for Floss.”

“Yes, candy,” Henny’s smile turned into a playful serious face, placing her fist under her chin and puckering her lips as she pretended to be in deep thought. She had felt how disheartened and sad he became when he talked a little bit about himself and she didn’t feel right probing. His relations with others seemed like a sensitive subject. They were strangers so it wasn’t her place to ask, so instead she would distract and provide the information he wanted.

Picking up her cup off the floor, she took a quick sip of her drink before making suggestions. “If you want something close by, I’d say Mr. Beau’s beignets. Not candy. But what kid wouldn’t like a delicious pastry? Made by Mr. Beau himself! He makes everything with so much care. And love.” Tapping her chin, she continued to guide, hoping she was helping him even if it was just a little bit, “If you want to give her a big surprise, I hear a chocolate and pastry shop will open… this Sunday, I do believe. The Sweet Tooth Factory. I might take my littles. I hear for the first 100 customers they’re going to give freeeeeeeeee chocolateeeeeee.”

Excitement washed over her. She was giddy at the thought of free anything and loved a good deal. The flea market in Pinehurst was something she tried to go to every so often to see if she could get some steals. Coupons and discounts made a huge difference for her wallet. “There’s one more option though!” She exclaimed, happy to have company and appreciative he wanted to hear what she had to say. “My Darling Food Mart. From what I know of your sister, she would eat just about anything but I think what she would really like is something that her big brother likes. Candy or not. Now that I know she’s your sister, she talks a lot about you.” She gazed at the boy, quickly making a decision and clearing her throat, “I actually have to go grocery shopping soon, if you want to come along? If not, that’s fine. I won’t be upset.”

“Oh, Floss talks about me?” Spencer was a tad thrown by the revelation that his younger sister spoke about him. He didn’t think she would bother. She was getting older now and finding herself and her own life but for the longest time it had always been just them against the world. He worried deeply about the day which he believed would come, where Flora would finally cut ties with him. After all, she and Spencer weren’t blood. She had no obligation to him, no connection beyond a shared upbringing. Be feared the day she would leave him behind, much like everybody else had.

“You know what? Nevermind that. Yeah I’d absolutely love to go to the market with you.” He didn’t know much about the strange girl he found outside of Osprey’s but what Spence did know was that he trusted her. There was a certain sparkle in her eye and a curve in her smile that made him think that perhaps she needed him to be some sort of distraction for her and that was fine; he was ok with that as long as he got what he wanted. Which in this case was to find tasty treats for the light in his life, his little sister. “My Darling Food Mart is.”

Hennessy observed him quietly. He did it again. He backtracked and didn’t talk about his thoughts and feelings. The sight of these subtle mannerisms and afflictions made Henny feel for him but she knew it was not right to push him to talk. When he was ready to talk, he would or maybe this would be the last day they saw each other and he’d forget she ever existed. If that were the case then he had nothing to worry about. They’d go on about their lives as strangers. If that’s what he wanted, she would understand. “We have a little bit of a walk but it's not too bad, plus my car is in the parking garage over there. Well, my family’s car.”

The young woman collected her things, with him at her side, before rising. “Like I said, we don’t have much so I’m usually dropping my brother and cousin off at work so I have our wheels to take the rugrats out or do errands. Georgie usually gets out of work at five and Bucky hangs at the Longhouse on the Res until I get there. This used to be my other brother’s job, and I would stay home but he isn’t around anymore. And that’s okay because now I’ve gotten over my fear of driving, I think!” She had casually brought up her dead brother like it was nothing but based on her forced chipperness, this was simply how Henny coped. Her eyes were sad, yet hopeful and she tried her best to smile through it all. No matter how bad her heart was aching.

Spencer understood the hole that could be left behind by a sibling in absentia. Growing up in the orphanage and watching as the children that he thought of as siblings be adopted or age out of the system. Hell, there were girls that he knew who simply disappeared without a trace. The assumption being they were taken in by some loving family and raised to be fine members of society but Spence always had his suspicions that there might be something more untoward going on. There was a reason when the Kesar’s chose him as their son that he wasn’t going to leave Flora behind in that place. He’d never leave her.

“It’s a nice day.” He said as he got up to his feet. “If you’re up for it, we can leave the car here and just walk. It’s really not that far and I don’t know I’m enjoying the quiet right now, you know?” Spence offered up his hand to the young woman with a smile hidden behind his long bangs. Henny was sweet and the least he could do for her helping him was to help her too.

The gesture of him wanting to hold her hand took her aback. She wondered if it was appropriate when they only just met not too long ago. Knowing her, she was overthinking this and it was simply him just wanting to keep her safe, like her brothers do all the time. Hennessy didn’t interact with many people outside her family and most of the time, she found herself lost in the classics. Rebel Without a Cause, The Best Years of Our Lives, Singin’ in the Rain, It’s a Wonderful Life… the classics. “We can do that,” she nodded in agreement, adjusting her tote on her shoulder. Staring at his hand for a second too long, she took the leap of faith and reached for it, gently grabbing onto it, albeit nervously. Something so simple carried so much weight to her. Anxiously she looked around, and took another sip of her drink, trying to hide the fact that this was something she didn’t do normally. “Onward we go!” She chirped, beaming brightly and unable to hold his eye contact now that they were walking hand in hand.

Now he was even more confused. He had only offered his hand to help her up but now they were essentially skipping down the street together like some couple from one Floss’ teen movies. He didn’t hate it but Spencer also really didn’t understand it. Then again, if Viv was to see him holding the hands of a pretty girl down the street, it could only work in his favor surely to make her feel the same sting in her heart that he felt? It seemed malicious and unfair to Hennessy but surely after today he wouldn’t see her again? This was a one time thing so what was the harm?

He glanced up into the sky above them, crystal clear and sparkling in blue save for the streak of white which was obviously the trail left by a passenger plane, likely a Boeing 747. One day that would be him, flying high away from the loneliness that had crippled him all of his life. A world to explore and new adventures to undertake. Maybe he would take Henny on one of those trips. She seemed like she needed it just as much as he did. Maybe one day his birth parents would be there, sitting in first class, unaware that their pilot was the son they gave up on, the son that was going to prove he was worth more than nothing.

“Let’s fly. To Darling Mart!”
In Edenridge → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
TIMESTAMP — Tuesday, July 20th, 2021 || Midday || Before Ain’t No Thing Just Everything & After On My Mind
FT. — Colin Brady & Antoine Beauregard


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When the news that Jamie O’Hara and Russell Lord were arrested in connection of the most recent round of letters that hit Edenridge mailboxes, it came during a time when things were already tense. The letter business specifically was a hot button issue for the force, trying to find who was the culprit and who was making hell for everyone and anyone. Colin was one of many who were on the case, but he could only feel sympathy for those who were most affected this time around.

Colin knew the O’Hara’s almost as well as he could. He’s had a few frequent conversations with John O’Hara, mostly about basketball, about their kids. His heart went out to the man for what he must be going through right now. One of his kids were the subjects of the letters and the other was responsible for it. He wished he had enough time to devote to checking in on John, but between all of the people he interviewed, the witness statements, and then logging it into evidence before heading back out there and doing it all over again (but this time in different areas), Colin couldn’t find the time. They were spread so thin that just about everyone who had a badge was pulling double shifts today and probably would for the foreseeable future.

By the time midday came around, all he wanted to do was go home. All Colin Brady wanted to do was go home, eat some dinner, and pass out, but before then, he needed a pick-me-up. And maybe, it was his own selfishness coming into play because going home meant having to face Marlie, who he promised he’d be home before 3, which he wasn’t.

Yeah, there were a lot of promises he had made to his wife that he hasn’t been keeping as of late.

Parking across the street from Cafe Rochambeau, the seasoned detective went directly inside, feeling a sense of relief that the cool air above compared to how hot it was outside. Immediately, he saw the owner of the establishment greet him with that typical smile that Antoine Beauregard was known for. He waved to the man as he approached the counter. “How are you doing, Beau?” He asked him, Colin’s exhaustion clear in his voice and his eyes. They were bloodshot red. If he weren’t committed to his sobriety, he would have gone to the Hole and got drunk right then and there. Some days, Colin wondered if it was even worth it anymore. He was causing so many problems in his life and all because he’s starting to come to the realization that he and Marlena weren’t doing great. Any excuse he could find to stay out late, asking for more shifts from Chief Windham and trying anything he could to not have to see his wife, Colin had a problem worse than the disease ever gave him.

“I think the better question is, how are you doing, detective?” Beau had heard the rumblings and the musings all day from patrons coming in and out of the cafe about the events that had unfolded on Scott Street that morning. Of course it would be the talk of the town, how could it not be? Drama, intrigue and some of the most prominent fades in Edenridge, it had all the makings of one of those Netflix dramas that his daughters were obsessed with.

Beau had only gotten to teach Jamie O’Hara very briefly. She had moved schools in her freshman year due to her mental health but in the time he did see her and in the moments he had watched on as she grew up into the young woman she was today, he thought her a good person. He still did. From his several decades working for the New Orleans Homicide unit, Beau had learned many hard truths about life, one of which was that the evil of man can sometimes feel like the only option, the only door, the emergency exit. It’s what forces good people to do bad things. He had to admit that he often had to remind himself that there were always, always two doors that could be taken. Jamie and Russell chose the wrong door. He hoped, sincerely, that whatever lay ahead of them, they would choose the other door.

As he slid over to the coffee machine to make Colin’s regular drink, Beau looked at the younger man and waved a finger. “And don’t you dare lie to me, I’ll know, I always know.”

That was the thing with Beau. In the few times Colin had sat down and had conversations with him, no matter how infrequent and inconsistent they were, he had always surmised that there was no use lying to him. Perhaps that was the eye he once had for the job that never quit. Colin had that particular clairvoyance, but lately he’s been struggling to maintain it. “You can take the job from the man but there’s always a part of it that stays with you, huh?” Colin let out a low laugh, almost like he was mentally kicking himself for thinking he could show up to Beau’s place, regardless of how rare it was for him to come here and not think Antoine would spot the weariness that he thought he was hiding better than he actually was.

“So where shall I start? Been a long day, as I’m sure you’ve heard. Nothing stays a secret in this town for long.” Colin could only think about it again. Jamie O’Hara and Russell Lord. Secrets blew up their lives and so many others. He wondered if the same thing about his marriage and how that was struggling could be next. If something so big as those letters could be found out within a couple of days, what did that mean for such a minor, insignificant-in-comparison thing like his failing marriage? “With Costigan in the hospital, we have been spread far and wide. Most, if not all, of us on the force are pulling double shifts. Haven’t had a wink of sleep since very early this morning. Thought I’d get the best coffee in town. You remember how I like it, right? I know I haven’t been here as much as I would like to.”

“I remember everything, detective. This thing is basically a safe.” Beau tapped the side of his head with his index finger. As he prepares the coffee for Colin just as he always liked, the former detective glanced over at the patriarch of the Brady bunch. The tiredness on his face was obvious, what wasn’t was the borderline frantic playing with his wedding ring. In Beau’s experience, the need to fiddle with one’s forever band meant that there was most certainly trouble in paradise. He had seen it so many times with fellow officers, the job and the street always came first. That’s just the way of the world for a boy in blue. “Things will calm down eventually, you have the perps in custody.” He didn’t really like referring to the kids like that but he would for the sake of Colin. “But it isn’t that what’s really bothering you is it? Why don’t you tell me what’s really happening, Colin?” Beau slid the freshly brewed coffee in front of the other man and smiled. “It won’t leave the room, it’ll be between you, me and Solomon.” The ex teacher motioned to the record player which was playing “Don’t Give Up on Me” by the late great Solo on Burke.

Colin absentmindedly had began to rub his wedding ring. His mind went back to those early days when he first fell in love with Marlena. He was so young and dumb compared to how he was now. He still was foolish but in different ways. Foolish because he couldn’t come to terms that, now they had established themselves as genuine members of the town and even to the point where Marlie, his kids, and even himself had the respect of so many people, Colin could feel the weight of all of that trying everything it could to crush him. He sprung Marlena from her home in Phoenix, the threat of her father forcing them to leave the country and go on the run for years. He knows she resents him for that. Look how he treated her now? Avoided her like the plague and finding every excuse he could not to see her when she was awake.

And of course, the ever keen eye of Antoine Beauregard had seen that. Maybe subconsciously, the Brady Patriarch had wanted to talk about it, but too stubborn to admit he needed to vent and certainly too stubborn to see Shannon Ramsay about it, though lord knew that’s what he needed. So maybe this was the closest thing he would ever come to it - at least until he swallowed his pride and admitted he needed help because this was undoubtedly the closest he’s ever come to wanting to throw away over twenty years of sobriety.

Before speaking, Colin took the coffee and took a small sip from the steaming mug. Bitter with a slight hazelnut note. It reminded him of the coffee back in Phoenix, where he had spent the better part of his 20s in before moving abroad.. “I’m not sure where I should start.” Colin took another sip and pondered quietly for a few moments. In those moments, he thought back on the years spent on the road. First Ireland, then Spain and how his wish to be with Marlie took her away from her family. Without even realizing it, he said out loud, “I’m a fool. Marlena sacrificed so much for me. She left her family, left her life in Phoenix because she loved me. Now how do I repay her? I tell her we should move here, give the small town life a try. Sure, we have been here for six years now and it’s been wonderful. We both have great job, friends, and our kids all thrive in their own way - but at what cost, Antoine? I avoid her most of the time until I can’t stomach my shame and go home and when I am home, we’re either fighting most of the time or we hardly speak.” He didn’t mean to unleash everything and he knows he’s absolutely in the wrong for everything. Colin knew it as soon as he took that first sip from the mug. “We just haven’t been the same since our oldest, Marco, was shot by Decker.” That was a moment that Colin truly started to feel as much of a failure his father-in-law used to call him, especially when he was actually trying to use his son’s horrific near-death experience as some excuse as to why his marriage was suffering.

Beau had seen this dark cloud before. Too many times than he would like to admit if he was Frank. There is an idea, a thought, a wish that any man or woman who wears a badge that allows them to protect and serve, should be perfect. They are expected to follow the law to the letter, to be free of sun and be paragons of virtue and grace. This simply was not the case, how could it be? When one’s job was to gaze upon the bodies of children with holes in their head, leaking out brain matter on their seventh birthday or something just as heinous, how could someone be perfect? Everyone had a vice, something that wasn’t right but it helped them cope with the evil that men can do. Some turned to the very drugs they took off of the street, others alcohol and others dove into the world of sex, whatever the vice, there was always a cop behind it.

“Your family went through trauma and it no doubt weighs heavy on the soul for you that your job is to protect and serve but you couldn’t do a single thing that day. Neither could I.” Antoine remembered it so vividly. He remembered every face in the crowd of parents drowning in anguish. The memory of every student, fear on their young faces. The screams. God the screams. “The job always comes first but what you have to remember, nobody, no victim that don’t matter. You not talking to your wife, during your shit? That makes her a victim. Make sure she matters.”

If Colin didn’t know it any better, he swore he was talking, confiding, and getting harsh truths from his own father. Sean Brady was the same as Antoine Beauregard when they gave advice. Both were worldly but both could also give you the harsh truth, whether you asked for it or not. Colin’s relationship with his father was strained. Has been for years. Yet he was still getting the same advice that cocky bastard old man of his would give out from someone who walked the same life he did. Sean Brady was a retired Boston detective, so he knew just like Antoine knew what Colin had to do.

As he pondered what Antoine said, Colin pulled out his shield and looked at it for the longest time. It felt like hours to him because the weight it carried, the sacrifices he had to make to be the best detective he could be, in his heart he knew what the wise sage that owned this cafe was right. He knew everything uttered the minute he walked through those doors and felt the rush of the AC hit him, was nothing but the truth. “I swear I never thought I’d be this kind of man. Not just a cop, because lord knows when I was a stupid kid, the last thing I wanted to become was just like my old man. But also a bad husband like he was. I didn’t realize just how much I was like him until this very moment passed by. He sacrificed a lot for the sake of the job and now I’m no better than he was.” That’s the part that stung Colin the most. It wasn’t the fact that he felt like he was failing Marlie as a husband or he was taking her for granted. It was that despite everything he tried, despite every fiber in his being that never wanted to be just like Sean, the truth of the matter was simple. Colin and Sean were no different.

Well, at least that’s what he used to think. Colin understood everything that Antoine said was the truth and that there was one thing he could do to change the course of his life. Colin put his shield back into his pocket and leaned forward somewhat. “We’re so disconnected at this point. Where do I even start?” Colin took another sip from the coffee in front of him, trying to find the answer himself but coming up with nothing. He knew he should find the answer for himself, but damn it if he didn’t even know where to start.

“How about a cup of coffee?” Beau said playfully before he took a sip from his own mug of Java behind the counter, his chocolate eyes smiling at the younger cop. He looked over to the large bookshelf that covered his back wall and his gaze fell upon a particular hook in red binding. Knowing what little he did about the Brady-Castillo’s family, it felt appropriate reading material. “I think that one of these days...you’re going to have to find out where you want to go. And then you’ve got to start going there. But immediately. You can’t afford to lose a minute.” Antoine waxed lyrical as he quoted Catcher in the Rye. “The simplest step forward Colin is to take a step back. Take Marlie out, search and find that thing that brought you together in the first place and think about the you back then and where you wanted to go. Are you there now? If not, why not?”

He understood what Antoine was meaning and what he actually needed to do, but part of him laughed (not outwardly but internally) at the suggestion of him and Marlie going back to what brought them together. In his mind, he knew that was dangerous in itself because what brought them together was danger. It was the danger of her being Emilio Castillo’s only daughter, the daughter that Colin was a bodyguard of sorts to at the time because of some…not so wise choices he made while he lived in Phoenix. Choices that came with unforeseen consequences. “You’ve been around the scene of organized crime enough, right? Marlena is a former cartel princess, if you’d believe that. I got neck deep in with her father when I was in my 20s. Caught me on the job with some of my favorite white powder and my old partner, Jack Daniels, and forced me to do his bidding. Work for him. I caused a lot of people to get entangled in my mess. Something I’m still dealing with to this very day.”

Colin’s mind immediately went to his sister Corinne and how she got entangled with Donghai/Douglas Chang. Perhaps if he wasn’t fooling around in Phoenix, he could have stopped her from making such a huge mistake. Lately, Colin was full of regrets. “So our beginnings aren’t what you might call healthy, but maybe it wasn’t all bad. Back then, I was out of my mind but she always made me feel right. No matter the consequences, she always made me feel like I could be better. She still does.” And maybe that’s what hurt the most for Colin. She had never been anything but the best wife anyone could ask for. In return, he’s avoided her, blamed himself, and buried himself into work to the point where it became his life.

He looked at Antoine. “Maybe you’re right. Not sure if we could recreate our beginnings because that would be next to impossible now, but you’ve given me an idea that might work.” It was a long shot, but maybe what they needed was time away. Time to fix themselves. “Think I might put in for a few vacation days. Maybe starting Thursday and into Saturday.”

Beau smiled as he could tell that his words were climbing the wall and dropping into Colin’s heart, where he hoped like a flower, they would take root and grow and force the police officer to reach up towards the sun for nourishment, the sun being his lovely family. “It ain’t never gonna be like it was but all you can do is try. You got babies and they’re worth more than any amount of money or object or excitement in this entire cosmos. Love, Detective. It’s what makes the world go round.”

Turning away for a second, Antoine began to search around his countertops for something. He lifted mugs, plates and trays until his ham hock hands found one of his beloved books with an envelope sticking out. He plucked the white sealed pack delm the yellowed page and spun back to face Colin. “Here.” Beau offered up the envelope to the detective and his face was soon covered by his big grin once again. “There’s a hockey game this weekend. Collie and I were given some tickets a while ago but she’s out of town visiting our daughter Genevieve in New York. Why don’t you take Marlie down? Eat some hot dogs, shout obscenities at teenagers playing a game. Get your blood pumping and just be in a moment together.”

Even as Antoine was speaking, Colin opened the package and saw exactly what it was as the cafe owner explained. Two tickets to a hockey game. Colin found himself half-grinning. It brought memories back to a time shortly before they moved to Edenridge. To a time before they had settled on the quaint, though now-cursed, town of Edenridge, Mass. It was when they finally moved back to Phoenix, after so many years of being away the life Colin had built there and the life Marlena had there, when her father grew weary of hating everything about Colin. During those few years spent in the southwest, Colin would regularly take him and his family to soccer games. To football games. When Marco developed a love for soccer, which he had in Ireland and Spain, they went to more and more. It was something that not only made them all feel closer as a family, but it was important to Marlie. She wanted them to know their culture and Colin remembered just being happy that she was able to smile again.

Hockey wasn’t soccer by any means, but there were still those memories of being at a sporting event that was from a better time. It was just a small step, but as he looked at Antoine, he smiled and nodded. He pocketed the tickets in his shirt pocket. “I’ll do that. I’ll have an extra one just for you. Boston dogs are the best, after all.” The Irish man laughed a bit too hard.

“Good, because I’m off the processed meats.” Beau tapped his gut and let out a heart laugh. “Collie got me on a diet.” He smiled towards Colin as the bell rang to signify a new customer entering the Rochambeau. “Sorry Detective, duty calls.” He pointed to the Brady patriarch's pocket where he had placed the tickets. “Remember, go, have fun. Leave the badge and gun at home, just for one night: You and the Mrs need to be Colin and Marlie again and when it’s all said and done, come back here and I’ll reserve you my finest booth.”

. The comment he made about his wife having him on a diet was something he could relate to. He understood it more than anyone else, when your wife did something like that, doing something that seemed like over worrying or too controlling, it came from a place of love and concern.

After it was said and done, Colin asked for a dozen benguits and a few pastries. If he was finally going to make it home, which according to his watch was a lot sooner than he initially thought he might, Colin didn’t want to come empty handed. On his Tupper App, Marlie asked if he could bring her and the kids something back and even though he brushed her off, not thinking much about it, he was in a better mindset to actually follow through. At the very least, maybe this could lead to a better peace offering than being home before the sun fell on Edenridge.

With the bag in hand, Colin left a twenty to cover the cost of the coffee and the newly ordered beignets. “Take it easy, Antoine. I’ll be sure to yell some colorful curses at them kids just for you.” Colin pocketed his wallet and left the cafe.

When he reached his truck, a 2015 Chevy Silverado, he sat in the driver’s seat. Thinking. It wasn’t turned on yet because Colin found himself in a deep thought. He spent close to ten minutes thinking about the makeshift therapy session he had with Antoine, everything the older man said, everything that Colin said and came to realize about himself. That he came to realize about his marriage. The great disconnect between him and Marlie was the root of it all. He made it worse by putting so much blame on himself and maybe that was also part of it, but they needed to find themselves again. He needed it as much as she did.

As soon as he figured that out, Colin could go home with a slightly less clouded mind, but more importantly, he was ready to face his wife.
In Edenridge → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
TIMESTAMP: Tuesday Afternoon
Featuring: Winona Deere-Echohawk & Kerry Casey


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Moments like these were always hard to watch. Their pain masked behind a smile, the Deere-Echohawk twins watched their mother as she picked berries and placed them in her basket. They watched their mother slip away every day, her memory of them fading, and as much as they wanted to show they were hurting, they couldn’t. Certainly not in front of her and not in front of the village they called home.

That was the downside of being their father’s children. They had pride and didn’t want to be seen as weak. Add their mother’s genetics, and now they were prideful warriors who felt obligated to care for everyone else but themselves. The twins knew how to survive, and survive they would. Through love and patience, they were determined to keep bringing their mother back, as many times a day as she needed them to, no matter how heartbreaking it was to them.

To those on the outside, they wouldn’t know how bad Elizabeth was getting but to her direct family and to the Coldwinds, they saw the photograph book of her mind losing its pictures, its memories. There was a link to some old PTSD traumas, unresolved pains, and false-guilt that could no longer be repressed. A past the twins knew nothing about seeing how their parents focused on the precious moments and taking care of the village rather than harboring on their personal histories unless it was meant for a story.

Elizabeth wasn’t completely gone. She was still there and the twins were adamant of finding things to bring her back, like the books she shared with their father, that brought a combination of happiness and deep memory. She still remembered her daily routine, especially when it was time to go and read to the kids. It seemed everything at the beginning of her life was all still there, what seemed to be fading was them. And maybe it’s because they were just like their father in so many ways.

It wasn’t until Elizabeth called her son by his father’s name, Bright Star, that Tennessee couldn’t hold it together. It didn’t take too long to convince her mother to start walking back home. Her mother kept calling her Komeha’e, which was the Chief’s first wife. Someone that Elizabeth clearly held dear. With the help from Kerry, getting back on track and shifting gears was quick and easy. He spoke in her mother’s poetic language, which was storytelling, and talked about the many horses he tended to. As they walked down the path, further and further away from the strawberry field, Ten was given the space he needed to sit in his emotions.

In time, they returned to the cabin and Winnie was able to get her mother comfortable in the living room to watch her cartoons until she fell asleep. When she finally did fall asleep, Winnie tucked her mother in, kissed her forehead and tiptoed outside. Going on the porch, where Kerry was waiting, she joined him and leaned her head on the column. She had to go to work soon. “Sorry about that. I don’t think Ten’s ever going to forgive himself for almost crying in front of you.”

“It ain’t less manly to cry in front of another man.” It was strange to see how different people treated dementia. Kerry had seen it first hand when he was younger. He witnessed the early signs with his grandfather and the full thing with his sister's ex boyfriend Walker’s father. It was a hell of a thing for everyone involved: a slow way to die and a slow way to watch someone die. He had borne the sight of people being treated with tenderness and care, like a newborn babe. Yet here on the Rez, Elizabeth was treated the same, albeit with that extra care. It was fascinating.

Since his arrival at Blue Hill, Kerry had tried to keep to himself and just focus on the horses he had been asked to tame and take care of. He enjoyed spending time with his long lost mother and stepfather, as well as their new family. He made friends like Tank and Rio but he found that he was linked deeper with the Echohawks, Tennessee and especially Winona. She was, to him, a light in a dark room. The minute he saw her riding on her horse with Fallon down the Main Street he knew he had to know her.

Every night, Kerry waited until closing time at Aponi’s Heart for Winnie to finish her shift and he would offer to walk her home. And every night he did that, she would say no. Until the day she didn’t. On that day, Elizabeth had taken a bad turn and Winnie definitely needed someone to lean on. So Kerry was there, as a friend, which he was happy to be. For her, he would be whatever she wanted him to be.

“The amount of men I saw bawl in their bunks or whose tears I watched dry up instantly in the desert. It can’t really be fathomed and it’s my something to judge by.” Tipping his hat up and resting his foot on the bottom stair of the Echohawk cabin, the cowboy looked upwards at the incomprehensible beauty of the native girl with a half smile, his lip curled to one side. “And how’re you doing?”

“Processing, I guess,” Winona shrugged, speaking earnestly and from the heart. Truth be told, she didn’t know how she should feel and if she were sad, she wouldn’t know until she was already crying. Emotions hit her hard and suddenly. Even before her father passed away she was like this. Her mind was wired in a way where her priorities were at the forefront and everything else? Like her sadness? Placed in a cupboard, forgotten until it decided to come out on its own. Until then, Winnie made sure to keep a good head on her shoulders, or at least, she tried to.

“I know I’m sad but I can’t feel it much,” she admitted, gently peering down at the man who occupied most of her mind most days. “I imagine when things start slowing down, it’ll all come crashing in. At least I hope so…” she trailed off, wondering if it was weird that at this moment in time she couldn’t feel the dread that haunted her brother. She hadn’t cried since her father died and maybe this was her way of building walls. A way to protect herself from pain. There was sadness in her eyes but a clear disconnect from her mind and heart. Winnie was never good at processing grief well. “Should I be sad? More so than I am, I mean.”

“Everybody processes everything differently.” Kerry admitted as he professed a further step up the old wooden porch. “Some people can’t get real emotional, like a Mama. She’s wilder than a hurricane. My little sister and cousin are like that too.” He took a further step forward until he was standing next to the raven haired beauty and rested his hat on a nearby table. “My Dad, he had some loss. You know? More than any man probably should and he would lash out in this rage. It was a wildfire burning any living thing on the prairie.” He ran his forever dirt stained hands through his dirty blonde hair, shaking away the summer sweat. “I think you’ve experienced a devastating loss before and because of that, you’ve closed your heart to feeling it again because you need to let everybody else feel it first.”

Kerry placed his hand on Winnie’s back and offered to her the gift of a full smile. “And that’s ok, you know? Certain people feel what they need in the quiet moments. In the silence they let the weight of their pain be carried off by the wind. Problem is, the wind always brings it back unless you find someone to share the weight with.”

Feeling his tender touch on her back, Winona locked her brown eyes with his, carefully listening to him. Kerry was the type of handsome that radiated from his heart-loving soul. The girls on the reservation would only see who he is at face value, and he was handsome, don’t get her wrong. Just by his face alone, he had all the features that would make any girl swoon but when Winnie looked at him, she never turned away from his stare. Never let her gaze wander. She focused on the depth of his eyes to the Cowboy twang and pleasant expressions of his voice. She focused completely on him like he was the most important person to her, like he was her world and without him, she wouldn’t know what she’d do.

That was how Winnie made people feel. She made them feel special. She gave them her undivided attention and put them first, before herself. Even if what she had with Kerry was likely different, she wouldn’t see it until it came crashing in. That’s just how she was. That’s how she always was. “Sometimes it feels like I’ve known you all my life. You’ve been on the Res for how long now?” The question was mostly rhetorical. She had a long day so she wasn’t going to drop a guess. She just knew it would be weird if he suddenly left and she didn’t have him to go to.

Their friendship started off as walks from Aponi’s to her house and slowly progressed into more and now, when they were apart she felt his absence and missed him. Missed him far more than she’d ever say out loud. Truth be told, she didn’t understand how he became so important to her but he did and she knew without him, she would feel this deep sadness that she presently tries to avoid whenever she can. The closer she got to him, the more vulnerable she felt. She didn’t know if she liked it. “Once upon a time we were strangers and now you’re the person I’m most comfortable with. It’s… hard to explain.”

“I don’t think it needs to be explained.” Kerry looked out across the open fields that sat before the Echohawk house and spread out towards the Blue Hill Reservation. It was tranquil here. Soft wind blowing through well manicured brush and whistling across the distant tree line. He had grown up in the shadow of the Rocky Mountains and the Yellowstone, deep in the Wyoming territory where buffalo graze and blades of grass could change to specs of sand or mounds of snow in a single step. Yet there was something different about Blue Hill. Something special and magical. It helped wash away the trouble or perhaps it was the people? “It is what it is and we are what we are. Don’t need no more explaining than that.”

He returned his gaze to the beguiling indigenous woman and brushed a strand of her jet black hair behind her ear. “You feel whatever you need to, whenever you need to. Nobody got the right to judge you. You’re entitled to be who you are.”

There were times, times like these, that Kerry Casey left Winona absolutely speechless. They say looks can be deceiving but when she looked at him, she knew that he was who he was, no excuses. Smiling at him in response to his gesture, she subtly leaned into his hand before turning away to look at the pastures, the fields and the land, just like he was doing seconds before. She crossed her arms, deep in thought. The silence between them was welcomed because they had each other and there wasn’t always a need for words. Their presence alone did all the talking for them.

When she was ready, she spoke up, “Ten’s going to graduate soon and follow my dad’s footsteps.” She remembered when her brother brought it up, this dream he didn’t want to let go, anxious at her reaction, knowing this was a sore spot for her. “I know we need more lighthorsemen, and my brother is driven. Once he sets his mind on something, he commits and goes above and beyond. I just…,” her voice trailed off, thinking back on her 21st birthday, the gunshots echoing in her mind. “My dad hasn’t been gone for that long and I don’t know if I could handle losing Ten like that.”

Kerry sighed a little through his nose before his hands traveled from the Win’s lower back to her shoulder, his other hand soon followed as he supported her. “I think you can handle more than you believe you can.” He let his calloused fingers add some reassuring pressure to her shoulders. “You’re strong but don’t feel like you have to force yourself to be. It makes sense to be frightened, to be scared. Hell, I'm scared too. Ten’s an idiot.” A soft laugh escaped from the ranch hand’s mouth. “But he’s a good man, with a good heart and a big appetite for life. He’s about to enter a dangerous part of his life but also one of the most rewarding. To protect one’s fellow man, it ain’t something to be taken lightly. It’s the highest honor there is.”

He would be lying if he had said he had joined the rangers to protect his fellow man. Kerry had only enlisted to escape from the clutches of Blackhat and the Outlaws. Yet had found a purpose in the deserts of war. He had found a sense of duty and responsibility. Better than most, the cowboy could understand Ten’s desire to do more and he knew that it would do wonders for his best friend by giving him pieces of himself that he was missing. Still, that didn’t change the fact that finding oneself might mean hurting pieces of others. Kerry had lost track of the lives he had taken in pursuit of victory but had not lost track of the people at home he hurt along the way. His mother and sister were those that suffered the most.

Taking a chance, Kerry wrapped his arms around Winona’s upper body and held her safely in his arms as they looked out across the sea of green. “Plus Fallon is terrifying and will protect him better than anyone else ever could.”

He was right. Fallon was a force of nature that no one but Pava could go up against. Growing up with those two, she always felt like she was chasing after them, to keep up with the amount of sheer will they had to achieve whatever they set their minds on. They refused to be underestimated or taken for granted. They refused to let men look down on them. They refused to be seen as less then. They refused to be seen as weak. Strong women they were, and to this day, Winnie looked up to them.

Time and time again, Fallon and Pavati would tell her that strength was more of a mindset than anything and while they had physical strength, what she had was spiritual strength. Since she was little, Winnie had sharp senses that only grew as she blossomed into a beautiful woman, full of light, love and compassion. Within her, there was stillness and a sanctuary, as she felt everything around her deeply. For her, life only made sense because she saw it as a mystery and didn’t try to conceptualize and search for the meaning. When you quiet the mind, the soul will speak and that is how she’s chosen to live her days. Quietly, with love as her compass.

When Kerry wrapped his arms around her, she wasn’t taken by surprise. Winnie wondered if she should’ve been but him holding her close, like she was something worth protecting, felt natural. It felt right. Everything about them felt connected from the first day they looked into each other’s eyes to now as they stood in the silence of nature. “Do you consider yourself a protector, Kerry?” she breathed, leaning her head against him so she could feel his warmth.

“I try to be.” Kerry rested his chin on the top of her head, breathing in her scent of wildflowers. “There’s a lot of stuff in my life that I wish I could’ve protected more or maybe even differently but you just gotta play the cards you're dealt, you know?” He thought back through significant moments in his life, where metaphysical road split and he chose one way rather than the other. He thought about his father and their ranch. His mother and her desperate plea to escape. In the midst of it all his little sister and cousins, whom he shielded for years from a fury that rivaled a God. Kerry could see the face of every soldier that died by his side, of every insurgent starting down the barrel of his gun. When he slept, his penance, haunted in his dreams for the choices he made, for being a protector. “All I know is if I’ve got something worth protecting, I’ll hold it until I can’t no more.”

Kerry gently kissed the back of Winnie’s head. “All I know is Ten definitely has something worth protecting. This place, these people, you. If I were him, ain’t nothing stopping me from watching out. Cos you’re worth protecting. I’d shoot down the devil himself if he rode down these borders.”

Another silent response.

Winona pondered, wondering if her next question was worth asking. She wanted to know. She didn’t know why but she wanted to hear his response. Cocooned by his protective nature, feeling the tangible thread in the air that linked them together, she wondered what their shared truth was. They danced around each other and their feelings and then had profound experiences like this, where she felt emotionally vulnerable, anxious and safe, all at the same time. Her voice was soft, nearing a hushed tone, as she finally spoke, taking her own risk, albeit verbally, “What about love? Do you have someone worth loving?”

This moment was filled with something he could not explain. As they shared a warm embrace and words of encouragement and support and ethereal meaning, the topic turned to love. Kerry was no fool. He knew where the sharp edge of the question was pointed; directly at his heart. She wanted to hear him say the words. Words that held the most meaning and could mean a thousand different things to an infinite amount of people.

“I do.” His eyes fell upon her face as he spoke. “I have someone who is rarer than any jewel. She’s more beautiful than the night sky and wilder than a stampede of buffalo charging down some unfortunate that has crossed their path.” There could be no doubt in her mind, she had to know he was talking about her. Kerry had loved her from the moment he landed at the Reservation. That first night in Aponi’s where Winnie threatened to kick him out if he caused any nonsense cowboy shit. “And you? Do you have someone?”

“Mhm, I do,” Winnie confessed, reciprocating Kerry’s devotion that she knew boiled inside him for a while now. “He came on steed not like a chivalrous knight but as a troubled man, burdened by his past.” She shifted herself so that she could get a better look at his face, not wanting to say anymore without him seeing that she meant every word. Days went by and now they could share them together. There was no one else she would rather share her time with than Kerry Casey.

Maybe, what they had needed no explanation. Maybe, what they had was all they needed to define their truth. Maybe, what they had was exactly what was meant for them. A love so profound it would last even after they died, just like the love her parents had that her mother grasped onto each day to not lose herself to her disease. Everlasting and their’s. Something that inspired them to fight and keep going. Something not worth letting go. Something that would make her father proud that she found, all on her own, when she wasn’t even looking.

It is what it is. We are what we are.

She couldn’t have said it any better.

“He admits to his faults and shortcomings and strives to be a better version of himself,” Winnie tenderly smiled up at him, throwing caution to the wind to speak from the heart. Something she was afraid to do, out of fear of replacing her father. “Like the warmth of the all-encompassing sun, he shines on me. Like the changing wind that touches everything, he moves those around him forward. He came to me and put me between my life and expectations. He came to me in a dream, and I’m grateful,” she gazed into his eyes, her heart exposed and open for him to grab. She adored him. There was no way he could think otherwise. She loved him. “I’m grateful he found me and I found him.”

With a hand on either side of her face, Kerry leaned down to kiss the smaller woman who was radiating love from her body in his arms. He had wanted to feel her lips on his for so long and now they had it. As they merged into one, the fire in his soul and electricity in his blood exploded in an eruption of elements. He backed her against the support pillar of the porch when he felt her give herself more to him. During a break in the kiss, Kerry brushed her hair away from her face and look deep into those big dark eyes. “Is this what you want?”

“You, Kerry,” Winona cupped his face, and at his lips’ touch she blossomed. “I want you.” There was a rush of helplessness inside her as she yielded to her desires. A rare thing for her. She felt herself weak in his hold as he supported her, and directed her body, pressing it against the pillar. There were wild tremors along her nerves as she insisted on another kiss. Drawing him in with her gaze, she laid her mouth on his and surrendered to this sensation. Surrendered herself to him. There was a sudden and abrupt thought that interrupted her yearning to get completely lost in the moment. Anxiously, she pulled away and revealed, “I’ve never been with anyone else.”

Kerry smiled reassuringly towards Winona and made sure to give her the space she needed. “We don’t have to do anything.” He took a step back and placed his hands in his pockets. “We can take this as slow as you want.” He tilted his head and allowed himself to smile fully, a true rarity when it came to Kerry Casey. “But I want you to know, I’ll always wait. I ain’t going nowhere. I’ve wanted you from the minute I got here, I can wait as long as it takes.”

He was saying all the right words. Winnie knew he meant what he said and yet, her heart sank when he backed away from her, which ended this dream just as quickly as it started. It was her fault for admitting her lack of experience and now he was respecting her boundaries, which was the right thing to do. She knew it was the right thing to do but then why did she feel a painful sadness like she did something wrong? “You have a handsome smile, Kerry,” Winnie whispered, before putting her walls back up.

She considered to herself that maybe this was a mistake and it was too soon for them to have taken a chance. If she had just kept quiet and not talked about what was on her mind, she wouldn’t have felt those things and wouldn’t have known how his lips felt. She was so stupid to think this was the right time and that he wanted her just as bad as she wanted him. He was a gentleman and that was a good thing. She should be more understanding. She was good at understanding the wants and needs of others. If he thought space was what they needed, then that’s exactly what she’d give.

Pulling her phone out of her back pant’s pocket, she checked the time and sighed in relief at a clear escape from this situation. “Thank you. For this,” she smiled, easing her way past him, walking to the front door of her house, “I need to get ready but I’ll see you later?”

“I’ll be there before closing time.” Kerry took a step closer to her, the smile still plastered on his handsome face. “Somebody’s gotta walk you gone right?” He moved forward, placing his hand atop hers which was gripping the open door and kissed her again. Now that he had tasted the fruit of his love, he would take every chance he could to have it again. Leaning back, his nose grazed hers as he looked into those pretty dark eyes. “If you can’t see me, I’ll be at the table at the back.” Kerry turned and picked up his hat, placing it back upon his head. “Just watching someone worth protecting and someone worth loving.”

“I’ll see you tonight,” she softly responded, her knees growing weak at the second kiss. She needed some time with herself to tune into her emotions, and see what was the best way of moving forward. She was anxious, which could be felt in her throat and through her veins. He wasn’t going to change his routine and the signs were all there, he wanted her. Yet why did she care so much about how badly he wanted her?

Helpless and confused, she watched him walk away. When he was down her porch and nearing her mailbox, she closed the door, hiding her terrified face as the nerves ate at her. Resting her forehead on the door, she muttered, “How am I going to focus tonight?”


In Edenridge → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
TIMESTAMP: After Finding Neverland
Featuring: Mitena Strongbow, Penelope James, & Forrest Proudstar


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Slowly, the Dreamchasers, no longer the Lost trio, started heading back home. Jade with her Pancake. Mordechai with Natalia. All but one had enough reason to return. Penelope James found herself on edge and uneasy with the idea of going back. She knew the moment she was back in Edenridge, grief would wash over her, as it always did. She was still in pain at Blue Hill but to her surprise, it was taking a positive turn. It made her feel she would survive and find a reason outside of Charlie to keep going. To not give up.

Mitena had taken her on another walk, showing her a hidden secret, off-the-beaten-path gem. Blue Hill, like Edenridge, was full of obscure yet beautiful finds. At first, Poppy was confused because it was a stamping ground, a barren patch in the center of the wood. Tena had explained that before her people were pushed out of Edenridge that witches would hold counsel here and dance around the campfire. That wasn’t what made this a remarkable site though. Mitena asked if Poppy minded waiting for a little bit, and of course, Poppy didn’t mind at all. So they waited and talked about little things like their jobs, their hobbies, and what they care most about.

In time, the sun set and a magical phenomena happened around them. Magic appeared around them like clockwork. Blue Ghost Fireflies came out of the forest and shimmered around them, with bluish-greenish color, glowing, not flashing like their counterparts. It was ethereal to say the least. There Tena told her about the legend that these were the ghosts the witches wanted to give peace, during that horrible period that revolved around ‘the Judge’ where so many lives were lost.

Poppy was lucky because it seemed this would be likely the last day they’d come out until next summer. These fireflies specifically only visit for maybe a month, less than even, but when they do… you understand why the people you meet are meant to be cherished. Love and magic have a great deal in common. They both tie into the soul and heart, connecting them with practice, enriching the self and delighting one’s heart. Poppy couldn’t help but feel nostalgia fill up in her tiny frame, as she imagined those she lost, yet kept dear to her.

Charlie, Maxine, Danny…

For a moment, she felt like she could see their apparitions, like Danny staring up at the moon, book in hand, but she knew this was just her heart wanting to see those she lost, missing them terribly. He looked at her and smiled, the light reflecting on him so magically. She could see it, just by how he looked at her, how proud he was. How proud he was of all them. How proud he was to see them fighting to live. How grateful he was they were still trying.

The night was beautiful. Little Danny soaked in the night, the stars and the silence. Danny Boaz was at peace. She could see how happy he was in this surreal, ethereal place. She could see there were no thoughts beyond the present — his moment with her. That smile, his smile, he wore so well. The energy that surrounded him, positive and warm. The glint in his eyes, hopeful and content. Bringing her attention to Tena, she watched the strange and unusual woman pray to the surrounding spirits and send good tidings. All of this because Rhonda Decker knew what she and her friends needed.

“You can feel them can’t you?” Tena poised as she waved her arms in rhythmic prayer. “The people you’ve lost along the path? They’re here. We can’t always see them. We can’t always feel them but they’re there. They’re there.” It seemed that the young singer had become some form of spirit guide for those that had traveled down from Edenridge. She offered them something they each seemed to desperately need and want. Something it seemed that only she could give them. Perhaps she was giving to them all what Charlie had stolen?

Through the flicker of blue flame, Mitena’s doe eyes watched Poppy with a smile as she embraced this side of her which she doubted the tiny girl knew even existed before her trip to the reservation. She no longer seemed fragile, the brittleness of the glass case she had boxed herself into had now been reinforced by her spirit and by her will. Would it last when she ventured back to her own world? Tena did wonder. Yet she also knew that the difference between then and now was that if ever Poppy or any of Charlie’s soul pieces needed her, she would be there, something that she wasn’t before and regretted deeply.

“No one on the reservation knows this place exists. It’s a Silverheel secret. Only members of my family are welcome here and you’ve been family for a very long time.”

Giving a small smile in appreciation, Poppy didn’t say anything in return. Not right away. She gracefully laid a hand out and watched a single firefly rest in the palm of her hand. Memories, too strong to be forgotten. Memories that not even time could combat. To keep them alive, she had to continue to remember. Their lives ended unceremoniously but she still loved them. She would always love them. No matter the words left unsaid and how things ended. Penelope was grateful, immensely grateful, for the memories they shared. Even the bad ones.

Poppy watched as the firefly left her hand and closed her hand, grasping at the air as Charlie was back in the forefront of her mind. “Do you think… I can be happy?” She didn’t know what happiness entailed but she also knew she had a long journey ahead of her and she also knew that meant more pain and more heartbreak. “I try so hard,” she glanced over to Tena, her voice as low as a whisper, “I try so hard to stand but I keep getting hit with shit. I don’t know why,” she tried to gather her thoughts, her bittersweet emotions spilling out with every word. “I don’t know why this is my life, or why others have to go through so much just to be happy.” She frowned, not knowing if she should be angry, sad, numb, or happy. Not knowing how to feel because she was so tired of feeling. “I just want to be happy,” she muttered, yearning for something new and something good. Something that wouldn’t turn around and hurt her. Something she wouldn’t lose in the end that made her feel a little less lonely. Something that she could call her own.

Tena looked deep at the girl with the flower for a name. She was so deep in the sadness that had been her entire life, she must feel like she was drowning. As Mitena prepared to open her mouth to state her piece, she saw the rustling in the trees behind Penelope and a smile began to envelope her lips. Taking a step forward, the indigenous beauty brushed a single strand of hair away from Poppy’s pale face and looked into her big green eyes. “There she stood, pale, glowing, wrapped in transcendent light. There she stood, pulling me out of the water again. The crunching weight of the darkest depths fading as I flew into the air and into her arms. We painted over the silence with silence. I was happy. She was happy. It wouldn’t last the night but we would be happy again. I would do anything for her to be happy again.”

Reaching out as she echoed her brother's words in his novel, wrapping her fingers around Poppy’s shoulders and gently turning her around one eighty to view the rumblings in the wood and the emergence of Resi from the thick trees. “I think you can be happy.” Tena whispered, gently pressing a soft kiss behind Penelope’s ear. “Go be happy.”

Stunned at the immediate recognition of who would say, or write those words, Poppy felt a couple of warm tears trail down her pale, smooth skin. It wasn’t a stream. She didn’t find it in her to give into the rain. Instead it was a mist blurring her vision but keeping the storm at bay. Wiping her under eyes with her fingers, those words echoed in her mind, like all the memories of him did. If only he had the courage to say those words to her, to tell her that she made him happy. Faith could only carry her so far and in the end, he gave into the dark, leaving her behind. He was her everything but what they had, she knew, wasn’t healthy. She recognized that.

With every passing quote she heard, every passing secret and moments he shared with others, she knew he could never love her the way she deserved until he loved himself. And she too needed to learn to love herself. They didn’t help each other, not in the way lovers should. They depended on one another. And when they were apart? It killed them, slowly and painfully. That wasn’t what love was supposed to be like. Was it?

Taking a couple of deep breaths, she rested her hands in front of her, holding them together as she buried the sadness to see who was coming to meet them. When she saw Forrest, Tena and Charlie’s cousin, a subtle shift in how she held herself could be seen. Her shoulders relaxed, her smile wasn’t as small, and her body seemed less heavy. There was a glint in her eyes. “Hi, Resi,” she greeted, before looking back at Tena in surprise, having not expected to see him again this soon, “You invited him?”

“No.” Tena smiled as she softly placed her hands on Poppy’s lower back and with a touch of force, pushed the ghost girl forward. “You did.” Her voice whispered lowly into the Edenite’s ear before taking a step back towards her bags. “Cousin! What brings you out here?” She feigned surprise as she watched her older relative make his way into the firefly grove.

“Foraging!” Forrest raised a small clear bag from behind his back and aimed it at the two girls. “I have this idea for a stuffed mushroom snack which would be great for someone in need of a quick brunch!” Bending down, Resi plucked another fungus from the ground before turning his attention to the two beautiful girls in the clearing. “You two watching the fireflies?”

Tena glanced at her cousin before shifting her look to the outsider. “We were but actually I need to be going. Apparently some guy wants me to head out as a supporting act for a two week tour of Canada. Sounds kind of badass. You mind taking care of Penelope for a few hours while I go work out the details. Thanks Resi, you're the best.” The songstress did not even wait for the wild haired Indian boy's response as she tossed him the keys from her back pocket and took off with her bags into the woods.

“What the hell just happened?”

“I actually… don’t know,” Poppy admitted, realizing she once again wasn’t wearing Charlie‘s jacket and finally felt the chill of the evening through her skin, sending a subtle shiver throughout her petite body. Holding herself as she watched Mitena leave her, completely abandoning her for a business thing, Poppy tried to connect the dots of why her new friend would do half the things she did within the past minute or so. Like pushing her closer to Forrest or suggesting this was her idea, that she was the one inviting him over to the Silverheel ranch. Truth be told, Poppy was coming up empty. Unfortunately for Tena, the girl with the flower name was clueless and wouldn’t be able to read any romantic gestures unless it hit her in the face. It wasn’t like she was looking for it anyways. Poppy was still rewiring her brain to look outside of her perception, her perception being everything Charlie.

Brushing off the sudden moment of randomness, no point in overthinking it, Poppy glanced Resi over before asking, “How do you know those mushrooms are safe?” He had a little curl bouncing in front of his face begging to be touched. Distracted by the impulse she stepped closer and twirled the strand around her finger, “You have such cute hair,” she complimented. It took her a second or so before she realized that these actions were only meant for people like Jade and Decky. Her hand retreated behind her back. “Sorry… I couldn’t help myself.”

“It’s ok. People dig the hair.” Resi normally wouldn’t allow anyone to touch the wild mane that he had carefully maintained over the years. Hair to a Native American is sacred, it is a connection to family, tribe and creation itself. It is a display of individuality while being respectful for that which came before. For anyone to touch it to some could be considered blasphemous but for Resi, with Poppy, he didn’t mind, in fact, he kind of liked it. “As for the mushrooms, well if we ignore the fact that I’ve lived in this place my entire life, there are a few telltale signs. Like if it’s slimy or has dark spots, do not touch those ones, they’re bad bad bad.”

Forrest looked around the clearing. He was surprised that Mitena had brought the ghost girl here. This was where the family gathered and watched his auntie Dakota, Tena’s mother, leave this plain and join the Creator. The family camped under the stars and watched her fall asleep, knowing she would never wake up again. It was the best way to go, in his opinion. He wondered if his cousin had brought the offcomer here in some attempt to connect her to those that she had lost? More specifically, Charlie.

“We should get out of here. It’s getting dark and we don’t want the skinwalkers to find you.”

“And we both know they’d find me, I’m hard to miss. White as heck. They can use me in lighthouses to guide ships at night,” Poppy chuckled, poking fun at herself. She was gradually getting color, ever since she started going outside more, but not enough to make much of a difference. She was always a pale girl, though since the incident, her paleness took more of a sickly manner. She was getting better though. Little by little, Penelope was healing.

Before she decided to follow Resi, she turned back to the fireflies, taking in the spirits one last time. She closed her eyes and clasped her hands together. Placing her lips against them, she quietly prayed and made a wish. When she was done, she returned to the present, her reality, and spun on her heels, her dress twirling as she did so, “So since you’re here, does that mean you’re not busy? With work, I mean…” she looked at him doe-eyed and hopeful. “…are you free?”

“That’s the joy of being self employed, I set my own schedule. Technically I’m working by gathering ingredients…” Forrest waved his bag of mushrooms again. “…But for you? I’m absolutely free.” He stuffed the clear baggy into his rucksack and reached out, taking Poppy’s hand into his without a second thought.

Resi remembered the day when Mitena came to him with the news of what happened to her brother, Charlie. The two men had never met, never exchanged a word and didn’t have any kind of relationship. Forrest didn’t know Charlie at all but he still felt the pain of his loss through Tena. People would look at his cousin and see someone completely put together, spiritual, intelligent, creative and driven to succeed. No one ever saw her quiet moments outside of himself, Jadyn and Illara. No one ever saw the Tena that cried herself to sleep. No one ever saw the Tena that wouldn’t leave her room for a month. It wasn’t until she got a package in the post, a book, a collection of thoughts and feelings and a story written by her big brother that Mitena finally left her room.

Forrest could recall every passage of that book because it became his cousin's bible. Amongst its sea of words, was the story of a girl; a pale girl with green eyes from the wrong side of town. Having met Poppy a few times now, Resi could tell, no he could feel, why Charlie loved her. Watching her twirl in the dragonfly-kissed coming night filled the world and his heart with joy as pure as fresh white snow. “Is there anything you’d like to do?”

“Well…” Poppy gleamed up at Resi as they walked through the shelter of trees, down the well traveled dirt path, to their next destination. Her overflowing grief and the eternal sadness that encompassed her entire being grew quiet. It was still, frozen in time, at least for a moment. Not gone, it never would be. This sensation that used to be so overwhelming, to the point she wished she had novocaine to numb the pain, felt… distant. At bay. It was surreal what this place was doing to her. For so long, she couldn’t eat. She couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t function. For so long, she laid in her pain, unable to get away from it. She laid there crippled by depression and anxiety. Crippled by self doubt and self loathing. Crippled by her shortcomings and desire to die. For so long, she thought of one thing and one thing only. And that thing, that person, was the Raven perched persistently above her heart’s door. The Raven she desired. The Raven that wanted her to let go and find purpose. Let go and be happy. Let go and live. The Raven she loved.

Right now, in the company of Forrest, all these emotions, her monsters who’ve taken control of her since that dreadful day, fell silent. This allowed Penelope to focus on the boy beside her and him alone. They walked away from the dancing lights. The further they got from the stamping ground, the darker their surroundings became. The wood was dark but she wasn’t alone. She never was, was she? “I’ve been walking a lot today. So I was thinking we could watch a movie? I don’t care where, I just think it would be a nice way to end this emotional day. A story, some treats, and… good company.”

Wait. Hold up. Wait a minute.

Was she asking him to watch a movie? Now this was the moral test of Resi’s self. He couldn’t deny that he was attracted to Penelope. Very much so in fact. But he also couldn’t deny that he had some idea of the baggage that came with her. He had read Charlie’s book, he had seen into his cousin's heart. Yet it only intrigued him more. There were two girls in that book but Resi only had eyes for one.

“Well.” Ruffling the back of his wild head of hair, the young cook looked down at the tiny girl in his hands and smiled. “We don’t have a movie theater here so I guess we can head back to the Silverheel and put something on there. I still have a room in the barn.” Forrest was lucky that Jadyn hadn’t decided to demolish the place or turn it into some crazy sex dungeon. “But I can’t be out too late, I have to be gone for my little sister.”

“Oh you have a sister?” Penelope raised an eyebrow, wondering when she would get to meet her. “Understood! The movie doesn’t have to be long,” she earnestly agreed on his terms, absentmindedly interlocking her fingers with his. “What’s your sister like? Is she your only sibling?” When he mentioned he had a sister, her mind immediately thought of Maxine and all her great qualities. Max died too soon when she had such a promising future ahead of her. So many touched souls Max left behind and then her best friend, Indie, did what she could to keep her memory alive. To this day Indie always did what she could to keep Max alive.

“Yeah. Illara.” Resi gripped Poppy’s hand right as they emerged from the woods and out into the open field. “She’s eighteen so not really little but Illy has always been really shy. She helps me out on the truck though she mostly just preps my ingredients.” The reservation dog took a deep breath, inhaling all the smells and taking in the spirit of the world around him. Illara was his heart. She was the reason that he fought so hard not to fall into the same darkness that had swallowed most of their family whole. The Silverheel sisters, his cousin Charlie, Tena’s father. There seemed to be some curse against the lot of them. Forrest would be damned if there was a curse that he wasn’t going to go out kicking and screaming. “You have any siblings?”

I did. “Yes!” Poppy chirped, looking away from him and straight ahead as she did so. “Maxine. She’s a couple years older than me.” With her free hand, she reached for the teardrop necklace she rarely takes off that dangled from her neck. The necklace that held some of her sister’s ashes. “She’s incredibly witty, a bulldozer when it comes to getting shit done, and she cares, so deeply about Edenridge.”

Fiddling with her necklace, she glanced back at Resi, reminiscing the times when her family was whole, “She would say if you take care of the little things, the big things would take care of themselves. It would all just fall into place.” She breathed, before continuing, “She is so wise for her age, it’s incredible really.” Poppy smiled to herself, imagining her sister and how life would be if she were still around. The ‘What Ifs’ always plaguing her mind. “She is someone who fiercely preaches about the beauty of Edenridge, and that it’s the community that makes it. My town tends to… live in the past, with their ghosts and all the bad. Every corner you turn, a curse. A bad omen. A death story. When there’s so much dark, it’s hard to see the light. But she… didn’t struggle with any of that. I don’t know how she could be so strong. She was a beacon for many and…” Poppy’s voice drifted as her hand stopped playing with her necklace. “…I miss her.”

It didn’t take a genius to realize that Poppy was dancing between past and present tense, to see that her sister Maxine was no longer of this world and had joined with the great spirit. Even still, the sparkle in those luscious green eyes was enough for Forrest to see that whoever Maxine James was, she was a good person, just like Poppy. No one is talked about with the same feeling if they weren’t a blessing on the world. “She’s always with you. Those that are gone live in our hearts and minds or at least that’s what I like to believe.” The young chef glanced up at the distant lights of the Silverheel ranch and smiled. “What was her favorite movie? That’s what we’ll watch tonight, and she can watch it with us.”

“… okay, well,” Poppy cleared her throat, caught off guard with the question. She hadn’t thought about Max’s favorite things in such a long time. She was so used to thinking of the promising future that Max would’ve had instead of thinking of the girl she was, who had her own unique quirks that set her apart from other girls. “My sister,” Penelope returned her free hand to her side, before chuckling to herself, “Loved crime fiction. Action. Thriller. So if I could think of something she would like to watch… probably Dirty Harry. Honestly, it’s dad’s fault that we like these types of films. He used to watch them all the time with his friends.”

There was a brief pause.

In that moment, Penelope prepared herself, getting ready to imitate Dirty Harry’s mannerisms and Clint Eastwood’s quiet, unforgettable and compelling tone. Quoting the most famous scene in the movie, she made a handgun with her free hand and went in full character, glancing at Resi as she spoke. While her voice wasn’t as deep as Clint’s, she was still able to project authority, strength, and wisdom like he does, “I know what you’re thinking. ‘Did he fire six shots or only five?’ Well, to tell you the truth, in all this excitement I kind of lost track of myself. But being as this is a .44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world, and would blow your head clean off, you’ve got to ask yourself one question: ‘Do I feel lucky?’ Well, do ya, punk?”

Forrest felt almost compelled to say something cheesy, like being in Poppy’s presence alone made him feel lucky. Which itself wasn’t really a line as much as the truth. There was something about this ghost girl that filled him with joy; something warm and pleasant and dare he say happy. He was entranced by her imitation of Clint’s most iconic character and couldn’t help but just watch her, the way she smiled and her hair danced in the light wind.

It was clear as the night sky above them that Poppy loved her sister just as much as Resi loved Illara. Siblings were a strange thing, some could be as close as close could be, others distant with life and more that led completely separate lives. Both Forrest and Penelope loved their siblings deeply and had done their entire lives, people like Mitena, never got the chance. It was a sad way of the world that even those that deserved everything could go their entire lives with nothing.

“I’m really glad you’re staying another night, Poppy.”

Caught a little off guard, Penelope looked up at Forrest, not expecting the sudden words of affection. She didn’t know why but she was drawn to him. Something about him and his presence, she wanted to get close to. He warmed her on the inside as well as made her feel anxious and worried, all at once. She was at peace and felt safe, yet she felt so antsy just by being near him. An increasing urge that she couldn’t quite understand. Two vastly different sensations that she didn’t want to stop feeling. She liked this feeling, so much so that her face began to blush ever so slightly.

“Me too.”

As they walked down the dirt path, hand in hand, getting further and further away from the fireflies, Poppy found herself absentmindedly staring up at the moon.

She was bright and beautiful tonight. Even when she wasn’t whole, she was full of light, awe-inspiring and poetically captivating. The moon was a luminous guide, whether she was aware of it or not and her cold, arid orb took Poppy’s breath away.

That big moon over their heads was creating a glow in Poppy’s big green eyes and as she stared up at it, Forrest stared at her. He was completely and utterly in her thrall. Even her pale, alabaster skin seemed to be glowing under the shine of the sky spirits light. As they approached the end of the path and the entrance onto the Silverheel ranch he once called home, Resi couldn’t help but think to himself that there was something completely and utterly special about the offcomer, Poppy James.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of her and he didn’t want to.
In Edenridge → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
TIMESTAMP: Tuesday Night
Featuring: Esmeralda Montero
Introducing: Ian Floyd


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The Bull Shooters.

A roadhouse halfway between middle of nowhere and somewhere, a place for people who don’t really want to be found. That’s what the Bull was.

When Ian Floyd stepped through the old saloon doors, he was instantly struck by the smell of stale beer, cigarette smoke and manure. The background sounds to God’s forgotten shithole were that of old Merle Haggard records, the crack of pool cues against hard targets, the clinking and clanking of beer glasses in celebration of another day surviving the last vestiges of the great American frontier. Oh to be a renegade lost in the throes of time and space.

With his guitar case in hand, the shaggy haired stranger walked silently through the mess of outlaw souls and honky tonk girls. He did not make eye contact, his hazel gaze buried beneath the brim of his white Stetson hat. The floor was sticky from the perfect mixture of spilled Coors Banquet, Jack Daniels and Warhorse Mead. Taking to the small, inches high stage, Ian placed his case down on the ground and a hand onto a nearby speaker. He needed to feel the energy of the place in his fingertips, to feel the room and its hearts beat alongside his. He heard a voice in his ear, one he could only assume was the owner asking him why he had hijacked the stage. Raising his finger to silence the slobbingly man, Ian’s eyes drifted to him only for a moment.

“Old Fashioned.”

Dumbfounded, flabbergasted and absolutely terrified, the owner retreated to the bar to make the strangers drink whilst the pale rider turned to view his audience. She stood out like a beacon in the darkest of night. Amongst a herd of cowpokes at the pool table, she was at the centre, her incredible body on full display in her mesh tank and leather skirt. She was thriving on being the centre of attention, having all the men and some women fawning over her, desperate to kiss her red painted lips. She was there to hide and she was doing so by being the epicentre of an entire atmosphere.

The owner returned with Ian’s drink which he took and downed instantly. “Another, thank you sir.” As the grubby little man departed again, the stranger rolled up his sleeves to reveal his heavily tattooed hands and arms. Reaching out he turned down the background music which caused silence to fall in the Bull. Hundreds of eyes fell upon the stage as Ian plugged in his acoustic guitar and stepped up to the microphone. He began to pluck at the strings and his eyes locked with the woman by the pool table when he opened his mouth to sing.

“The other day I found myself up on the corner
I thought I run into a friend of mine
Ended up that he was just a stranger
I said hello as he passed me by

But then he turned and put a gun to my head
He said, My friend I'm going to rob you blind
I said You must be down on your luck
I'm out of money and I'm all out of time

He pulled the trigger and I fell to my knees
My spirit left and then my body went cold
I'm looking down upon the lights of the city
I feel alive, but I'm dead and gone.”

Souls meet in mysterious ways. There is a bind, a thread, that pulls them together. Some appear as natural threads meant to be intertwined, fed with needle and thread. Others? A powerful addiction. When they meet and find deep comfort and understanding, just by a look, separating the two becomes near impossible. Nothing in this world can keep them apart. Through some dire alchemy, in order to gain, one must sacrifice, in order to understand the good, there needs to be bad. In return, a gift of an irreplaceable fullmetal heart is presented to you.

Esmeralda Montero couldn’t entertain the possibility of finding happiness she could call her own. She’s had her fair share of hardships, like the death of her parents, or the fact that her sister stays at a mental hospital and has since they moved to Edenridge. She understands the value of life. She understands why it should matter. She understands it doesn’t matter what cards you’re given, it’s how you play your hand. Even then, with her deep understanding and awareness, her life was never meant to be her own. Not in this story. Her life was for her family and always would be until the day she died.

Under her uncle’s request, Esme had been assigned to assist the Gonzales side of her family and their business. She’s been doing that for a few months now and it seems that her stay was finally bearing fruit in the form of the Encanto project. Whether in plain sight or in the shadows, Esmeralda, or Belladonna as most in her profession would know her as, was capable of doing extraordinary things. Trained by a husband and wife duo, family friends, one gifted with finesse and fighting, a gunslinger if you may, and the other who fancied herself as an agent or conductor of sorts, getting what she needed and wanted through different means. Non-violent means. Together, they helped make Esme one of the best in her league. All on her own volition.

Though none of that mattered here. Esme was at the Bull with no agenda other than to enjoy herself, away from her usual crowd, and participating in something simple, like a pool game with a few despicable men. One with a wife but looking for an escape, one who felt entitled over every woman he talked to, and one who wants to be seen as a gentleman but has a history with sexual violence. They saw a promiscuous woman wanting to be fucked but little did they know, this Flower was deadly.

Gripping the cue stick, her body aligned with the shot, Esme decided it was time to stop toying with her prey. As they watched her bend over, distracted by the leather skirt wrapping around her thighs and hips so tightly, she observed the diamond system, sharply focused on her angle. With no need to take a few strokes with her arm, she made her strike and let the trick shot take its course. There was only one ball left and it was her’s.

The 8-ball.

When the music started playing and those at Bull Shooter gradually went silent, their eyes falling on a commanding presence, Esme brought her gaze from the table to the stage. She knew she made the shot so she didn’t need to watch it go in. Curiosity overflowed within her as even the thirsty fools next to her turned to a man with a guitar. When she noticed the musician singing and staring straight at her, she raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

He captured her attention and in his eyes and in his song, she felt a profound intimacy. A familiarity like she knew what he was going through and he, her. His soul was sewn into each word and when she listened to his voice, she felt the raw emotion and desire for something simple, just like her. As much as she could’ve gotten lost in his eyes, the belle of the bar couldn’t drop her guard. Gritting her teeth behind a smile, she forced her stick in between her arm and side, shoving her weapon straight into one of the man’s stomachs. A man who was close to touching her backside.

The Gentleman.

Gasping and cursing, he spat, “What the fuck?”

“I think I’ve had enough,” she pleasantly gleamed, turning away from the musician. Tossing her stick on the table, she scanned the men in front of her before her eyes fell on the one holding his stomach, “Oh my bad, that looked like it hurt.”

“No fucking shit,” the guy groaned. Peering up, his rageful eyes examined her form from a new angle, before straightening his body. “How you going to make it up to me, sweetheart?”

“Hm,” she blandly answered, unamused. Keeping up the act, Esme feigned innocence, knowing well enough he had no witnesses, “Are you accusing me of hurting you? Lil’ ol’ me? I could never.” She teased, casually running her hand through her hair, giving a nice glimpse of her chest and the black cross pasties under her mesh shirt. “Did you two see anything?”

The other drunk men shook their heads. They were too busy watching the musician to notice the quick exchange between Esme and the Gentleman. The music was a much needed break from getting destroyed in a game of pool. By a woman no less. One man went out of his way to give his friend a pat in the back, “Drinking a bit, ey? Can’t even walk straight anymore I bet!”

Pushing the man’s arm away from him, the touchy one growled, “That bitch, with her stick…”

“A bigger one than yours,” she purred, quietly egging him on as his friends looked at him like he was crazy. Frustrated that no one believed him, and that the other men were siding with a whore of a stranger, the drunkard reached for her wrist and forcibly grabbed it, dropping face and letting his true colors take surface. Not flinching in fear, letting this moment play out, she whispered, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Ian watched the events and chaos unfold around the exotic beauty almost as if it was playing out on stage or screen and not on the messy bar floor that sat before him. When one watches these events happen in a fictional setting, you cannot step in on them. You cannot intervene or change the outcome of the matter. The stranger absorbed the scenes happening around him, as he always had but something was different this time. Ian could tell even from this distance that the woman had everything under control, she didn’t need him to be a knight in shining armour which he was far from being at the best of times. Yet she called to him, not with her voice or her words but with her eyes. There was something in her eyes.

He did not rush though. Ian waited until he had finished his song before placing his guitar back into its case and descending from the stage. He moved through the stares of the crowd and the hands being placed upon his person for a good show in utter silence, his eyes never leaving the woman and the men accosting her. By the time he had reached them, the barrel of his six shooter was already buried in the spine of the gentleman and his hazel eyes had not moved from the Latina enchantress. “Partner.” Ian drawled. “Now you move one inch, my finger pulls this trigger and I blow your T1 to T4 Thoracic vertebrae straight outta that potty belly you got goin’ on.” He did not raise his voice and he spoke calmly as he continued on. “It won’t kill ya but it’ll hurt like heck and you won’t never be able to walk again. It’s my suggestion that you leave a few dollars on that there pool table for the ladies and then you call it a night. What say you?”

“What is he, your boyfriend or something?” The gentleman hissed behind gritted teeth, already taking money out of his wallet and putting it on the table. His friends were sweating at the sight of the gun. It was easy to tell they weren’t the usual crowd the Bull attracted. Far from it. This bar wasn’t a place for uppity men with trust fund money giving them a leg up in this world. If they wanted to feel a sense of belonging, they should cross the street to the Afterlife. Even then they better be careful who they get handsy with. There’s a dame with poison in her veins ready to protect her girls, without hesitation. One of R2’s best friends. Primrose Lyon.

The good fellas’ were in no mood to brawl because some broad wasn’t down to fuck their friend. The moment the musician intervened, they were quick to dip, leaving the gentleman to fix his own mess. While he was trying his damndest to play it cool, like he wasn’t scared, Esme could see in his eyes and his erratic behaviour that he was trying to get out of the musician’s proximity and fast.

What a coward.

All bark and no bite.

Shrugging to his question, neither denying nor confirming, Esme lost all interest with everyone but the man who seemed to come straight out of a western film. Tilting her head slightly, her eyes caught in his, she examined him closer, particularly his facial features and stance. He was a good few inches taller than her, with deep depth in his stare. He owned his masculinity but not in a way that would make a woman gag in disgust. With his grit, she could see empathy. Behind his modesty, she could see an Alpha. All of this with how he carried himself. A wider smile curled on her face, looking pleased he got the message without her saying a single word to him.

When the gentleman left their side and only they were standing in front of each other, she was quick to interrupt the silence in between them and gently tease, “My hero.” Holding his gaze, she leaned against the pool table. Giving him a sideway glance, highlighting her curves, she slid her hands on the pool table trim. “We don’t get cowboys here often.”

“Maybe not the same type as me…” Ian enjoyed the show she was very obviously putting on. The woman carried herself like a snake, her body writhing and slithering, seductive and sensual, enticing the holiest of men to certain doom. “But there are cowboys everywhere ma’am. Most only ride in when they’re least expected.” He placed the gun he had carried to the table into a holster on his waist before tipping his white Stetson up slightly to reveal his handsome face just a touch more. His skin carried years beyond his own. Beneath his collar, the inkling of a hidden tattoo reached up like a hand wrapped around his neck.

Reaching into the pocket of his old faded levi’s, Ian pulled a single silver coin and leaned forward, placing it on the edge of the pool table, directly by the woman’s fingertips. He allowed his fingers to trace hers for a moment before taking a step back. At no point did his eyes break away from hers, from the moment he walked in until their present conversation. “I suppose, I got next.”

“I could use a challenge,” Esme purred as she slipped his coin in between her fingers and rolled it on her knuckles. “One pocket. First one to get eight balls in their pocket wins.” The rules were simple enough, requiring plenty of skill and accuracy since they both would only have their corner pocket to shoot in. Based on how smoothly he asked for a game, she knew he wasn’t one to underestimate. She was drawn to him but maybe that was because he was the most interesting person at the Bull and not because she felt an immediate connection the moment he laid eyes on her.

Leaving the pool table, grabbing her stick with her, she broke the distance between them, closing the gap. Her body was open and relaxed. She brushed her hair to one side, exposing her neck. Holding his coin in one hand and her stick in the other, she leaned in and asked, “Heads or tails to break?” They hadn’t even given each other their names yet but there was something unspoken in the way he looked at her. Like her, his name was something earned. By the end of tonight, she’d find out. She was banking on it. Exuding sensuality and playfulness, she waited for his answer, subtly rubbing her stick. Patiently waiting.

“I usually take tails.” She was trying to tease him, to lure him in. With her closeness, Ian could see her breathing, her chest moving to the rhythm of her lungs and heartbeat in perfect synchronicity. That was her tell, like the faint sounds of a rattlesnake in the grass, telling you they were coming and that there was nothing one could do to stop it. “But I also always allow the lady to go first.” Ian removed his hat to allow his greying bangs to fall a bit slightly to better frame his bearded face. He rested the hat down on the table and raised two fingers towards the barkeep to signify his want for two more drinks for him and his new dance partner. “Your move.”

A coin toss was rarely a 50-50 proposition. Depending on the design on the coin, the likelihood of it landing on the side that was already upright was more probable. Intentionally, she let heads face up. She didn’t want to win this. Esmeralda wanted to see what he had to bring to the table. This was his moment to woo her and she’d let him. “Well then, if you insist,” she agreed with his statement and continued, “I’ll take tails.” The coin rested on her thumb and in seconds it was up in the air between them. She was agile and fluid with her movements, and there was so much control, even for a simple coin toss. The toss itself was soft, moving slowly in the air and easy to predict. Her brown eyes never left Ian’s dark gaze. Catching it and placing it on her opposing hand, she smiled before showing the results, “Looks like you win.” Taking her hand off, she revealed that it did indeed land on heads. “Set us up, Cowboy.”

This one liked games, that much was obvious and he wasn’t against it. It wasn’t often that Ian was allowed to play games considering his line of work. He spent way too much time on the road, travelling between towns and never laying down a single root. It would be nice to just unwind with this unfathomable beauty. She definitely wasn’t a relaxing presence, in fact everything about her from her almond coloured eyes, to her dangerous curves and body language, it was all designed to build the heart rate, distract and cause chaos. Sometimes a little chaos is just what the doctor ordered.

“Yes ma’am.” Making his way to the other side of the table, Ian began to rack up the coloured balls inside the triangle, followed by the ball at the end for them to strike. Pool was a game of patience, skill and marksmanship. All it could take was one slip of the cue and it would be game over. He didn’t like to lose, which was why he never did. Picking up the stick from the nearby rail, Ian leaned down and narrowed his eyes on the ball. “Two balls. Right corner pocket.” He struck the white ball and it careened forward, clattering into the others and knocking two balls into the pocket as he had predicted.

Esme wondered how long he would keep this up. If he was good, he could potentially keep going, taking successive shots until his inning was over. His inning would end when he either scratched, fouled, or shot an illegal shot, which simply meant when he went in any other holes than his targeted hole. That was the game of One Pocket. Of course, he could score in her targeted hole, then that would be her point, but she doubted he would. Then again, she didn’t know him and he didn’t know her.

Esme couldn’t deny she was curious about him and his intentions. She knew one obviously was because she was hot and he wanted to fuck her. She wasn’t dumb. Who didn’t want to touch her body and fuck her senseless? Still, she wondered if he was just as intrigued about her as she was with him. Beyond the physique and body language. Beyond the attraction. How much did he want to know her? Really know her. Only time could tell. He already shot two in, all he needed was six more than he’d win the game. But that was the thing. She wasn’t here to win nor play if he made this game quick and painless. She was here to watch him carefully.

This was too easy for him, she could tell.

A waiter approached them with two beer glasses, placing them on a nearby table. Leaning her stick on the same table, she grabbed one, took a leisure sip, and declared, “I change my mind,” before daring, “If you can get all the balls in that one pocket, without it coming back to me, I’ll give you… something of mine. If you fail? Well, I guess you’ll just have to kiss me goodbye.” Her lips curled into a smirk, as she took another sip of her drink. She did love games, that was just how she and her sister spent their time. More so her little sister nowadays since her job didn’t really allow a spa day or a vacation or two. So times like these, where she did have a break in between jobs, she made the most of it. Enjoyed it while it lasted.

Ian had made the mistake of showing how easy it was for him to pocket a ball. He had played his first card a bit too early it seemed but as she could, she changed the game. Something of hers? With someone like this nameless woman, that could literally be anything. She was ramping up the intrigue with every passing glance she offered him. Leaning down to take his next shot, Ian did not look at what he was doing. Instead his eyes stayed locked upon the Latina beauty that was trying to pull on his strings. He struck the white ball again and he knew straight away that it would hit and sink the next ball into the hole. “Count me in.”

The game came and went. As expected, Ian won with ease. Since Esme had been playing billiards with men for the past hour or so, she didn’t want to do another game. Instead they went to the bar to talk, continuing to explore each other’s souls with every glance. At this point, the two had indulged in a couple of beers and kept the back and forth going with teasing; the Latina complimenting his obvious skill in shooting his target. The woman’s shoulders eased more, her breathing steady and slow, little creases around her eyes, as she smiled through her stare and her lips. Her painted red, playful and enticing lips.

Esmeralda was no idiot. She knew simply by how the musician held himself and the depth in his eyes that she was spending time with the most dangerous man in the bar. But she also knew he wasn’t there to work, he was there to find something. Peace? Rest? An escape? Simplicity? Whatever it was, she felt like she could relate. At least, she thought she could. Those eyes drew her in like the smell of her mother’s chicken tortilla soup or the sound of her father strumming his guitar.

Her cousin Rico was always one of her favourites and maybe it was because his talent reminded her so much of her father. Her dad, Miguel, never did pursue his dreams in music. He chose family at the end of the day and dedicated his life helping her uncle Esteban in any ‘political’ affairs, using his charisma and empathy to strengthen client relationships. When he passed away, he had written in his will that he wanted Rico to have his guitar and his songbook, knowing well enough in time that boy would make something out of his past. His once upon a dream. His dream changed, of course. His dream was in the form of his two little girls and helping them blossom into the beautiful flowers he knew they were. His dream was his love for his family.

Her mother too held strong values with the family. She was focused on keeping the foundation of the Monteros strong, being the rock for holidays and traditions while whispering advice to her brother. Estefania was intelligent, witty and ruthless when she needed to be. Her uncle would say in passing that if she cared more about the business and not so much about protecting the family, she would’ve surpassed him a long time ago. But family was everything to her. While on the surface she was a woman who owned a restaurant in Little Havana, Miami, giving the Hispanic community comfort food and motherly advice, the reality was, her brother trusted her and her wisdom, and when he was lost he would search for his compass. His sister, the person that would always lead him back home and remind him of the reasons behind his goals.

And now, both her parents were no longer in this world.

Esme didn’t know what this mystery man was to her yet. She didn’t know if their time together was only for a moment or for a season, or perhaps even longer. For now, he was here and she was here with him. The intrigue and anticipation was sitting on the edge of their seats as she took another sip of beer. They hadn’t looked away from each other this entire time and she noted a while ago that all he cared about was her eyes. Her body was a plus, obviously, yet he seemed more interested in unmasking her and looking for any secrets he could find through the flames of fire that were her warm brown eyes. She liked that. “What’s your story?” She unabashedly asked. “What separates you from all the other cowboys?”

Ian’s thumb traced the rim of the top of his bottle as he looked deep into Esme’s big brown eyes. Their entire game, he had felt the glare from all the other patrons of the bar. The seductive woman stood out in a crowd wherever she went thanks to her all encompassing beauty, whereas Ian brought attention to himself because of his own visage, an outlaw renegades who had just taken his first steps out of a Spaghetti Western.

His thoughts lingered on her question. ’What’s your story?’ It was a loaded question if ever there was one. He had heard in the past that unloading onto a perfect stranger could sometimes be the best catharsis a person could ask for. Did he need catharsis? Did he deserve it? Ian Floyd had not led a pretty life. He had not led a good or decent life. To venture down the long and lonesome roads that he chose to travel down, the cowboy had to disassociate the acts that he had committed with his body from his soul. Ian sat opposite the enchantress with only one regret that he still carries around in his heart like a weighted sack full of stones, dare he share that regret?

“I ain’t never tryna be anything other than what I am.” He responded. “I’ve seen and done things that I expect to burn for and I’ve made peace with that. Can you say the same?”

“Oh baby,” Esme took a swig of her beer, before finally breaking eye contact. Sighing to herself, she stared at the alcohol inventory, like she was staring into a deep void. Empty eyes and a lost soul. “I’m my own personal hell, already burning. But yeah,” she replied, resting her chin in her hand and her elbow on the bar top. “I get what you’re saying,” she glanced back at him, giving him a half smile, “I am who I am. No excuses.” She understood where he was coming from. More than he likely realized. Or maybe he knew, simply from the way she looked at him, that she too made peace with the things she’s done. She was young, her demons weren’t going anywhere anytime soon, so it made sense to embrace them instead of acting like they didn’t exist. Embrace the storm, become it.

Whether they were saints or sinners, it didn’t matter. From sins of their past, some rise. Others, on the other hand, fall because of their virtue. Good and evil, it was such a subjective subject. Esme knew she was strong but she was also tired. A storm that most would run from, but she wanted someone to walk into it and not be afraid of all the things that came with committing to her. Her past, her sins, and her family. This was getting awfully dreary and personal. Shifting the tone, she turned her body towards him, her mind compartmentalising the dark so that she could focus on the present. Her beer was left by its lonesome self but that's fine, she had a few and was feeling good. She’d come back to it, or not. “How long have you been playing music?” she asked, her knees touching him ever so slightly, inviting him in.

Ian could feel the skin of her knees gracing him with their presence and any other normal hot blooded man would’ve glanced down to look but his eyes stayed with hers. He could see in the darks of her big brown eyes that there was a pool of sadness. The way she stared off and reflected, for a brief moment he wondered if she shared the same thoughts and feelings he did? That was a question for a later date, if there was one, it was not a question for now. Ian accepted her invitation and his tattooed hand wandered down to her knee, his thumb gently drawing circles on it. “All my life but I never made a single dollar from it. Never tried. Music to me ain’t about money, it’s about catharsis. It’s about words and sounds that strung together can make a cowboy form west Texas, a street hustler from Baltimore and a vision like yourself all feel something deep and meaningful and real.”

“Wish I could say the same,” Esme purred, acknowledging that beyond a pretty face, she was a woman of little hobbies. As playful as she wanted to come across, nights like these were rare. She was a workaholic. Once upon a time she and her family would go hiking, rock climbing, biking, hunting, fishing— they were an outdoor recreational family. Though Espie would make sure to always bring her comics and her sketchpad, her father would bring his guitar, and her mother would crochet dolls. Esme didn’t have an art. She preferred looking around and studying the plants and the animals, taking in the stars and clouds, and watching her family in appreciation. She admired people like Ian, like her family. Talented people that could connect souls through their passion.

Esmeralda wasn’t someone who could connect easily with others. She didn’t know why but she was always like this. It wasn’t like she was intentionally trying to have a guard up. It’s just when she was given the opportunity to make a friend, searching for emotional transparency and connection, she found disinterest instead. People were not worth her time. Her uncle grieves this part of her, blaming himself for not shielding her from the reality of the world at such a young age. He’s convinced himself that there were things his sister hadn’t told him and that his two nieces were exposed to trauma that neither of his own kids would understand. At such a young age too. Esme didn’t think it was that deep. She simply didn’t find most people interesting and was content with her own company.

Was she lonely? She hadn’t put much thought into it but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t enjoying herself right now. There was something between her and this mysterious musician that she had never felt before and without hesitation, she knew she would follow this unusual feeling and see how long it’ll last. How long it would burn. “My dad used to play music. Never pursued it but as long as he had his family and his guitar, he was happy,” she responded, her deep, brown eyes softening at the thought of her late parents. “The most I’ve ever felt was when I’ve listened to his songs, and now your’s. At some point I just…” she sighed, her chest moving with such sensuality. Everything she did, whether she liked it or not, came across extremely seductive. Closing her eyes briefly to feel his caress on her knee, before gradually opening them to fix her gaze with his, she let the silence linger. His stare was intense and full of depth. So much could be seen simply by the way he looked at her. It made her want him. It made her want to know how he felt.

Silently, Esme drew him in, begging him to take her, as she finished her thought in an almost whisper, “… stopped feeling.” Subtly, her expression and body language hinted at her need for intimacy. Heat emitted off her and her smile was enticing. She could feel the intrigue and yearning between them. This unspoken synergy. She wanted him and she wasn’t hiding it. It was his call, he could shoot his shot. The latina was giving him all the signs in the world. If he wanted to take her, right now, he could.

Ian had learned very early in his life how to remove himself from the ways of feeling. He had made his living for nearly twenty years, ending the lives of others. The only way he could do such a thing without remorse was to remove his soul from the equation. It was his belief that the body was merely a tool to be used by the spirit to carry it across the world. When Ian took on a contract, it was him killing, it was his body, that was the weapon. That was why with every new vessel whose journey he ended, he marked his own body with ink to remind himself of the soul that he helped reach its final destination.

As he looked into Esme’s big brown eyes, despite the allure of her vessel, he was drawn in by the soul that inhabited it. A dangerous, seductive and well travelled soul that felt kindred to his own. Ian stood up to his full height, placing his hands on her thighs as he stood between her legs. He did not say a word as he took a hold of Esme’s hand and led her to her feet and out of the door of the dirty bar.

For a moment, the bar went silent. Two enigmas with such commanding presence walking out, hand in hand. There is nothing more dangerous, more powerful, and more compelling than a woman and a man who know themselves, neither caring if they live or die, yet both coming to the same idea. One idea. And that idea? There was him, there was her, and then there was both of them. Together and ready, to explore this sudden turn in fate.

There is something we live by, we die by. Of all the pure things, of all that is true, for both sinners and saints. It could be used as a weapon and it can be used to destroy but that’s not all it could be used for. Neither strangers shared their names. Even so, their souls did all the talking. They weren’t people who played it safe and this could be either the start of something wonderful or the start of something torturous. A sweet dream or beautiful nightmare.

They found themselves in a nearby alleyway. He pushed her up against a wall…

Whatever this was, it certainly was the start of something new.
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