| [be kind, rewind] |
[Dec. 27th, 2010|08:02 pm] |
[Ashes, ashes, pocket full of posies, snapshots of a life in nightmares;
He opens his dream-eyes wide, swallows his first clean breath beyond the dream-walls;
So the fragments bind, the reel flies anew, and he must return to the beginning (to there begin again).] |
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[Dec. 6th, 2010|01:39 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | &ecthelion&glorfindel, &gandalf&glorfindel, &gandalf&marende, @buckleburgh, barry, carol, ecthelion, freddy, gandalf, glorfindel, marende, merry, molly | ] |
| [ | Mood |
| |  lost | ] |
*has traveled to Dorthonion for a long-ish weekend to attend the big winter festival there, at Ashley's recommendation*
*wakes up bright and early one morning to go and have a bit of a wander in Buckleburgh (though really, they could have picked from any number of towns to stay in—Ashley wasn't kidding about the scope of local involvement) while Glorfindel sleeps in at the tiny B&B*
*wraps up warm, complete with scarf, hat, and sunglasses (partly to protect from the elements; partly to avoid being recognized outside of Gondolin, as has become a vaguely disturbing trend), and walks down to where an ice-sculpture contest is already in full swing*
*spends some time awed by some of the sculptors at work (drips and streams may haunt his dreams but ice...)* *gets so wrapped up in trying to work out how that fish isn't going to collapse once the support struts are removed that he entirely forgets which direction the B&B is*
*takes a map of the area out of his back pocket (not a very good or detailed map, unfortunately) and stares at it for a while in bewilderment (and this isn't a big town)* Hrm. Oh, wait, no...that way's north. I think? |
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[Sep. 1st, 2010|07:14 pm] |
*loiters on a bench at the train station with Carol and Jackie Lee, waiting to see the latter off to Delving*
*can't think of a single cheering thing to say, when the reality is that he probably won't see his lover again for some time* *keeps silent but vigilant contact instead, stroking the nape of Jackie 's neck and occasionally trading comments with Carol* |
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[Aug. 17th, 2010|11:37 pm] |
*returns from errands to receive the latest news about the Children*
*can't help but be concerned especially what with all those two boys have been dealing with, never mind the other ones*
*accompanies Irmo to Gondolin so he can listen out on his best receiver iPod* *follows his trail to the GMH*
*while Irmo sits in the main waiting room to keep listening, uses her OU faculty credentials to ask around about Erestor's treatment (all holistic remedies can be attempted you know? even in dire cases you'd just be amazed...)*
*stops outside his room to assess the situation and see how his visitors are doing* |
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[Aug. 6th, 2010|08:32 pm] |
[Life becomes less a continuous reel and more a series of snapshots;
Scenes and sounds so vivid as to be dreams (except he doesn't remember sleeping);
Fragments of a life, or a dreamed life, but he may not know the difference.] |
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[Aug. 4th, 2010|12:30 am] |
*twenty-one minutes and one breakneck drive through the mountains later, rips around the corner onto Carol's street*
*slams the pickup into park and jumps out, leaving the door ajar and the keys in the ignition, his heart in his throat as he takes in the swarm of flashing lights and the gathering flock of neighbors* *sprints past the gawkers and skids to a stop in front of the first officer he sees* Where's Jackie? —Jackson Taberer? His aunt lives here, he called me—what's going on?
*off the man's non-answer (sir, I need you to stay back until it's all clear), immediately pushes past and cranes his neck for a glimpse of his ex-lover's familiar shape, or a less-familiar but recognizable small-aunt shape* *dodges the officer's attempts to herd him back, calling out a little desperately* Jackie? Carol?! |
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[Jul. 27th, 2010|07:41 pm] |
*goes home to his shithole apartment, half-drunk and fuming* *grabs the half-empty bottle next to the TV, first thing, and flips the tube on*
*swigs in mostly-silence for the last ten minutes of some dumb sitcom, the liquor doing nothing to calm him (when his arm aches and he can still feel that skinny faggot's weight on him)* *keeps replaying it over and over in his mind: Mae Ellen sticking up for Jackie fucking Lee, and her letting her dickhead of a husband kick him, Joe, out on his ass* *he didn't mean to, goddammit, stupid bitch should know better by now*
*snarls and throws the empty bottle across the room to smash against the far wall* If this were fucking Chetcombe and I fucking knew where you lived, Jack-a-lene...! *belches and gives a wordless snarl of rage, scrubbing his hand off on his shirt in disgust* Fucking fag, don't touch me...
*out of the corner of his eye, catches the light glinting off the purple-stone necklace dangling from the shelves [least he don't go around shaming his daddy]* *squints hard at that thin golden chain, some vague memory niggling for attention* *...*
*pushes to his feet, grabs something from behind the TV and heads out, slamming the door behind him* |
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[Jul. 4th, 2010|11:33 pm] |
*arrives home from the shop to find herself with an unexpected (but hardly unwelcome) visitor*
*takes one dismayed look at her too-skinny, too-quiet nephew and packs him straight off to shower and bed, with promises of enough supper to stuff an elephant once he's had a good sleep*
*some hours later, sits at the table and watches Jackson Lee rearrange the food on his plate, eating little and saying even less* *has the dreadful feeling that something horrible's happened (Gondolin? your House? your friends? Doc?), but any attempts to sift answers from him are met with averted eyes and weary headshakes*
*sips her iced tea and folds her arms atop the table* *contemplatively, gazing out the back door* You're up just in time for the tomatoes, hon. I was thinking I'd check the vines again tomorrow. Bet there'll be at least a few ready out there. |
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[Oct. 17th, 2009|01:54 pm] |
*returns from Menegroth with vacation days to spare, but has been forbidden to show his face around the House (for work purposes, anyway) until such-and-such date*
*is glad for the extra time, though, because it's a prime opportunity to have Carol down for a visit before the weather gets terribly cold* *picks her up from the train station and, after a minor squabble over who's sleeping where (which mostly consists of him threatening to put her out on the lawn if she tries to take the couch), sets her up in his bedroom and introduces her to his modest little kitchen (which she promptly commandeers, of course)*
*some time thereafter, is instructed to invite friends over for supper, and so dutifully calls Ecthelion ("take your antihistamine, sir") and Glorfindel* *hangs up with the latter and turns to Carol with a chipper smile* They'll be here in a little while. *steps back in to stir the beans* These are about done, I think. When do you want the roast out? |
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[Sep. 18th, 2009|05:28 pm] |
*is not normally a nervous soul, which is probably a good thing considering his penchant for potentially dangerous jobs and/or hobbies!* *still, was a little fretful about meeting his boyfriend's aunt (a solid mom-figure and Jackie's only living relative) for the first time, despite said boyfriend's reassurances* *spends a good three minutes waffling over whether to throw on the single tie he owns*
*finally decides to go with tried-and-true, and so turns up at On the Fly precisely on time, tie-less but freshly showered, armed with a largeish paper bag and the worst case of nerves he's had since... ever* |
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[May. 19th, 2009|12:06 am] |
*really had forgotten how small Chetcombe proper was—until he and Carol passed through the only intersection in town with an actual traffic light*
*spent the morning at the cemetery where his parents were buried, mostly reminiscing with his aunt about the good old days (when he was young (don't talk to me about old, boy!) and had four sets of eyes to dodge (I never got away with anything, did I?) and life was so much... simpler)*
*now finds himself walking a slow, meandering path up the gravel driveway to his childhood home* *quietly takes in the house, the yard, the trees, the fence* *and so much of it is new paint, new curtains, new flowers—but he can still see the way it used to be, every time he closes his eyes and smells the pines and the lilacs on the breeze*
*tucks his hands into his pockets and squints up at the clear blue sky, just feeling the gravel crunching under his feet* *softly* Not much has changed, has it? *liptwitch* Except I don't hear the shutters anymore. |
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[Jan. 13th, 2009|01:00 am] |
*leaves the Fountain and heads home to change clothes after a pretty productive day, all told*
*has hardly gotten into the car when his phone starts singing with an incoming call* *checks the caller ID and grins, flipping it open*
Hiya, Carol. Where's my sunshine, huh? You promised me an export for New Years. |
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melancholy
working
calm