The Tiberius J. Swann Education Facility

Who: Lyle and Fisher
What: Discovering something
Where: Orange County Rehab Center
When: Tuesday Evening
Rating: PG 13
Note: A drabble that just came to me and needed writing

Lyle got to talk to the therapist, see what kind of progress Fisher was making, and Fisher got to sit in the little chair in the hallway and wait. He could have gone in there, but there was no point. He already knew what they'd talked about all week, he didn't need to relive it. Besides, while Lyle talked to Cara about their sessions, he got to play on Lyle's phone. He didn't have a phone yet, because rehab didn't let him, for understandable reasons. Not that he had anyone to call, but still, playing the games on Lyle's phone was almost reason enough to get one. Plus, he had video and photos and an MP3 player. Phone technology had really come leaps and bounds in the past sex- well, seven- years.

( Whose dick is this in your phone? )

Who: James, Lyle and Fisher
When: Very Late Night
Where: Lyle's Dorm
What: drunken debauchery

After James had left his apartment early that day, he had gone to a bar and started drinking. He had continued to drink at this bar up until the point where they would no longer serve him. At that time, he moved on to another bar. This continued until well into the night, and probably would have kept going, had a certain song not come on the radio and made him think of Fisher. It was at that point that, in a terribly drunken state, he decided he had to go see the other man, just to make sure that what he had been told was true. At this point, he was far too drunk to drive, so he'd had to walk back to the dormitories. It was by sheer, dumb luck that he hadn't gotten picked up for drunk in public along the way, or fallen in a ditch somewhere and passed out for the night, but by some miracle, he'd made it back onto campus.

As he found his way into the wing where he knew Lyle's room to be, he got the urge to sing. And so, with no regard for anyone who may be sleeping at this time on a Saturday night, he was singing the very song that he had heard in the bar earlier that night.

"I don't mind where you come from
As long as you come to me
But I don't like illusions I can't see
Them clearly."

He tripped and nearly fell, catching himself on the wall and regaining his balance before he picked up where he left off.

"I don't care, no I wouldn't dare
To fix the twist in you
You've shown me eventually what you'll do."

He realized then that he had no idea where the fuck he was, so he stopped, looking around with a bit of a frown before he saw the door that he was looking for. He clomped across the hall and stopped outside the door, one hand rested against the wall next to it as the other moved up to practically pound on the door, humming to himself as he waited. He looked a mess compared to the norm. His designer jeans and white t-shirt were wrinkled from having gotten wet that morning and drying on their own over the course of the day, he wasn't wearing a coat, and his hair, which was usually so carefully styled, was a bit of a mess, like he'd been running hands worriedly through it all day long, and he had. The smell of liquor was strong upon his breath and his eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot. But he was grinning.

Who: Rez, Fisher and Lyle
When: Night
Where: Lyle's Dorm
What: Dinner

The nap had done Rez a world of good. He had slept like the dead for the few hours that he had managed to sleep and when he woke up at 7:30, to the sound of his alarm, he'd felt a lot fucking better. He really couldn't thank Rorie enough. The kid had been there for him when he'd rally needed someone to be, without any expectations or any real reason to do it. He'd have to remember to get him back for that someday.

Stopping by his dorm, Rez changed clothes, donning something that was more like him, a t-shirt with a long sleeved shirt underneath, baggy jeans, skater shoes, etc, and had brushed his teeth, washing his face of the remnants of drool from having slept. When he knocked on Lyle's door at a few minutes after eight, he felt more like himself than he had the first time around, but nervous, of course.

This was probably going to be the most awkward dinner ever, and he wasn't sure which part would make it that way the most, the fact that Fisher didn't remember him or the fact that Lyle was going to be there.

Who: Fisher, Lyle and Nox
What: A meeting
When: 3pm
Where: Nox's office
Rating: TBD

Lyle knew Fisher didn't want to go. Fisher knew Fisher didn't want to go. Nox probably knew Fisher didn't want to go as well. However, this was a meeting that Lyle knew was needed. Nox was good at getting Fisher to open up, getting him in line, and seeing more than the medium wanted people to see. And Lyle needed help. Nox would offer advice without being demanding, wouldn't let his fondness for the little emo get in the way of his judgement. Lyle found it hard enough having to be strong enough for Fisher, let alone everyone else who was hurt by what had happened.

Arriving on time with a reluctant brother in tow, Lyle knocked on Nox's office door and went inside. Fisher walked, most reluctantly, arms crossed and pouting. He didn't want to meet this person, and talk about his "future", and be scrutinized and watched and hovered over. He liked Rez. Rez didn't hover, he just talked. Lyle said Nox only wanted to talk, but Fisher wasn't so sure. He looked like a high school principal.

"Hi, Nox," Lyle said as he came in, sitting in one of the chairs in front of the desk and motioned for Fisher to do likewise. And after a look, and a small huff, he did.

Who: Rocky, Lyle and Fisher
What: Reintroduction
Where: Lyle's room
When: Afternoon
Rating: PG 13


Rocky wasn't sure whether she was prepared enough for this but then nothing would probably prepare her for seeing Fisher with no memory. She was seriously considering backing out and telling Lyle she didn't wanna go through with it - but then she wasn't being a good friend or a baby sister if she ran away in both the Majors' time of need.

Steeling herself Rocky stood outside of Lyle's room and took a deep breath. She was dressed down, much more muted than usual with hardly any make-up on and her hair pulled up into a ponytail. Fisher was gonna look at her and not see her, not even register her, more than likely. He'd be scared and he'd only have seen a picture of her. There wouldn't be any reluctant glimmer of care in his eyes there'd be nothing. It was hard to grasp but it would probably be harder to see. Gritting her teeth she announced her arrival by knocking twice.

( Lyle wasn't even ready for this, so how could Fisher be? )

Who: Starbuck and Fisher
When: Sunday morning
Where: the infirmary
What: taking care of a patient and friend

Starbuck had considered spending the night at the infirmary when Fisher was brought in Saturday, but after healing the gash on the dude's head and taking care of a messed up shoulder, Starbuck was tired. It had been a long day, and Fisher hadn't been the only one in need of Starbuck's healing powers. He was better at keeping his energy levels up thanks to lots of practice, but everyone had a limit, and Starbuck had reached his. Fisher was still unconscious, and Starbuck sensed there was something more wrong on the inside, but head injuries were so damn tricky. Since Starbuck didn't know exactly what was wrong, he didn't want to risk healing the brain and it draining him dry in the process. Fisher seemed stable, and hopefully he'd come to on his own after getting some rest. There was nothing more Starbuck could do for the time being, and he'd be better served getting some food in his system and sleeping, so that's what he did.

When he returned in the morning, Fisher was still out cold. It made the healer frown. "Fisher?" he said, coming to the man's side and checking a few vitals. He'd learned enough from his EMT training now that he had a good medical foundation to back up his magical skills.

Who: Fisher, Garret and Rorie
What: Picking up the medium
Where: Boston
When: Late evening
Rating: PG 13

Who: Garret, Rorie and Fisher
What: Grabbing the medium from Boston
Where: Downtown Boston
When: Late Night
Rating: R for adult content/language


Garret was pretty sure he was going to kill Fisher. Unless something terrible had happened to the kid (because Garret wasn’t heartless), the skinny goth was going to die and Garret was going to be the one to see to it. Garret had been made sure to request tonight off specifically so he could go to Lloyd’s premiere and stay until the very end. And the night had been amazing. Rorie looked so incredibly sexy that Garret’s prediction to Lloyd had been accurate- aside from when he needed to applaud his former fiance, he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off Rorie all evening. He just looked so enticing, with his long legs and fishnet stockings and oh, Hades, the way his top showed off his chest and arms... Not to mention Lloyd was on stage and he looked incredible... Garret had spent the entire evening with Rorie pressed against his straining erection and half a notion to simply take the boy right there on the floor.

So of course Finn had called, and of course he needed Garret to go save someone. And Garret had not bothered at all to try and hide how disappointed and annoyed he was by the whole ordeal, but he went anyway. Fisher was bleeding and it was his job and against his better judgement, he cared if the guy died or not.

( Goddamn Fisher. )

Who: Fisher
What: Waking up in unfamiliar ground
Where: Boston
When: Evening, after leaving Lloyd's club
Rating: PG

The pavement was cold, and Fisher shivered as his eyes fluttered open. There was a pounding in his head that matched pace with his pulse, a steady throb of pain. The night sky looked hazy, the lights of a city blocking his view of the stars. He swallowed, throat dry, as he sat himself up slowly. Immediately his head spun on him, making his vision blur a moment, until he could blink it back into focus. His shoulder hurt, and his head. Had he fallen? Did someone jump him and take his shit? Patting down his pockets, Fisher's brow furrowed as he pulled out a few unfamiliar items. Keys to something, a cell phone, a match book from some place called Flamingos, his knife. None of this was making sense. Was he on a job, delivering someplace? He couldn't remember. It was starting to freak him out how much he couldn't remember. There had been a man, an old man, and he hadn't wanted sex or to sell drugs. He'd brought Fisher to a rehabilitation clinic, and Fisher didn't want to be there but they locked him in and bandaged his arms. But he was out now, on the streets again. Had he escaped? Was he high right now? He couldn't be sure. It didn't feel good like being high, it felt like a bad trip, or like he was coming down. He needed another hit.

The cell phone in his hand buzzed, making him jump. The screen flashed, and an unfamiliar name and face appeared blazen on it. Finn. Who was Finn? The name wasn't familiar at all. Had Fisher stolen this phone? It seemed too expensive to be given for a delivery job, too easy to trace. Nothing was making sense right now. Maybe Finn had answers. Dropping the other contents of his pockets to the street, except for his knife, Fisher pressed the answer button and held it carefully to his ear. "Hello?" he asked, unsure. The voice on the other end was friendly, and eager, and completely foreign. And by the end of the conversation, Fisher was not only confused but freaked the fuck out. How did this guy know so much about him, things he had never told anyone? The cell phone lay shattered on the ground, crushed beneath his boots (unfamiliar boots, when had he gotten these?). Without the sim card, he couldn't be tracked. Finn had said they could find him, but Fisher knew how to disappear. He was no stranger to cities, and while this one wasn't his home territory, he knew that it was just like any other city. You just had to know what to look for to hide.

Leaving everything in the damp gutter, Fisher hugged himself tightly, shivering. He was cold, confused, dizzy and sore. The drugs often made his memory come in dribs and drabs, but they'd never taken him across state lines before. He couldn't remember how he'd gotten out of the rehab clinic, or how he had gotten to Boston, or who this Finn guy was. But he knew that he just needed to get home. When he got back to New York City, life could just go back to the way it was.

He started walking.

Who: Lloyd and anyone else who wants to attend.
Where: The newly opening drag bar / gay club outside of Boston
When: Saturday night, 8:00pm doors til 2am licenced bar!
What: Flamingo's Opening Night!
Rating: R for language, right now.


The club was done. The main stage area lay in wait to house the opening night's acts all of which were waiting backstage putting the final touches to make up hair and whatever else they had going for themselves whilst the bar area at the back and to the side glowed like it was made from an alien's scrapyard. Lloyd had taken a few moments to stand on stage before the doors opened at eight, just to soak it in; it really was his creation. It was done. It was flawless. Now he had to stand up and welcome people in half an hour. Shit.

( Only Garret would know a little of what to expect - and even then there was a LOT of room for him to be surprised. )

[OOC note: The show would go on after Lloyd's act to have a few choice acts, not ALL drag, followed by Lloyd introducing Will, then a few more then a finale. If you wanna post reactions / threads / interactions / you can do whatever below in the usual social thread pattern. All are welcome backstage after Lloyd's opening number! Now play, damnit!!!]

Who: Fisher, Finn and Mandy
What: Near suicide
Where: On tope of the water tower
When: Late afternoon
Rating: R

Finn was about half sure that Fisher was actually going to jump. The other half figured he might just jump with him. The fact he couldn't be around Rorie, that he was fucking things up with any girl he ever liked, that he'd never find anyone, would never leave that fucking place and now his biological father was coming to see him finally after 28 fucking years. . . He had been light and funny on aim with Fisher, but now he was thinking about it and that meant feelings were coming up and now. . . He actually had a pair of scissors with him. Getting to the water tower, he looked up and saw Fisher already climbing it. "Fast fucker ain't ya?" He called jumping on the ladder and climbing to catch up with him.
( I'm in a million tiny pieces. They're just close together they look whole )

Who: Garret and Fisher
What: Public drunkenness
Where: Downtown, then Garret's apartment
When: Sunday early afternoon
Rating: PG 13 for language

This wasn't exactly the best week starting out. Garret was trying to look at it with promise, but it wasn't easy. Malakai was impossible and stubborn (which was only annoying because Garret was stubborn too), Rorie thought he was a lousy, negligent boyfriend. He had thought everything was looking up on Friday evening, but then Saturday morning had brought it crashing down. But it was okay. All he needed to do was have some patience, which he severly lacked, and come up with some plans. For starters, he needed to fix the issue with Rorie. He loved the boy more than he could possibly say, and he didn't want Rorie thinking that he wasn't loved or wanted. So a few hours before his shift, Garret trekked his way to the liquor store downtown in search of a fancy, impressive, make-the-boy-melt Italian wine.

( Oh God, he groaned. )

Who: Fisher and Rez
What: Breaking some news
Where: Fisher's new apartment
When: Thursday afternoon
Rating: NSFW

Rez didn't call first. He hoped that Fisher would be at home since he wasn't on campus or in classes right now and he needed to talk to him or see him or just.. be around him. If anyone was going to tell him about James' and Will's upcoming nuptuals, he thought that it should be him. He didn't know how he was going to react to it but he was pretty sure it wasn't gonna be good, and he wanted to be there like.. just in case it was really bad. So here he was, bag slung over his shoulder, knocking on the other man's door.

( He had known this was coming all along. )

Who: Rez and Fisher
When: Evening
Where: The Airport
What: Fisher needs a ride.
Rated: TBD

Rez wasn't sure whether he believed that Fisher had actually missed his flight or not, but for the moment, that didn't matter much. He needed a ride and, as always, it was Rez to the rescue. What would Fisher really do with himself if Rez actually decided to stop being his knight in armor some day? He'd probably end up lost on the streets somewhere or something. Either way, Rez wasn't trying to find out just yet. He was a sucker for lost causes, and Fisher was perhaps the most lost cause of them all.

Getting off of campus hadn't been entirely easy because he wasn't technically supposed to be leaving the grounds because of the whole Finn incident. But he'd managed to get out and he was soon on his way to Logan International Airport to pick up Fisher Majors. Elle wasn't going to be happy. Hell, even Finn probably wasn't going to be happy. But this was his life and he'd do with it what he wanted. They all knew that. And hopefully none of them would fault him for it too much.

The traffic was a bitch, as usual, and it took him just over and hour and a half to get to the airport and find a damn place to park. He made a beeline for baggage claim then, thinking that would be the most logical place for them to meet, but he spotted him just outside the doors right before he could make it inside to shoot him a text.

Weaving in and out through a few people, he finally made it over to him and then stopped about a foot and a half away from him. "Hey," he swallowed hard. "Guess I shoulda drove by to see if you was waitin' before botherin' to park."

Who: Fisher and Rocky
What: The goodbye sleepover
Where: Fisher's hotel room
When: Late night
Rating: PG 13


It had been exactly what a sleepover was probably supposed to be. They'd watched bad movies, aclled for room service and ate junk, at one point Fisher had said something smart assed and Rock had hit him with a pillow. For two minutes straight. That was a pillow fight, wasn't it? And now, close to midnight, despite the caffeine and sugar rush, both Rocky and Fisher were laid out on the decent sized bed pretending they were watching whatever awful movie Rocky had picked out. It was been an overly fun night, laughing and joking, almost as though neither of them wanted things to be quiet, because then they'd have to acknowledge that this was all about goodbye.

But now things were quiet, and Fisher was thinking about it. He thought about how Rocky was just like a little sister, just like Lyle had been- moody and sometimes annoying and sometimes weirdly sweet and while he didn't know why she cared so much about him, he was glad. And he loved her too. And he would miss her. And he couldn't guarantee that he would ever see her again after he left. He'd told Starbuck he'd come visit, but... maybe he couldn't. Maybe he would just disappear.

"Hey," he said softly, nudging Rocky's shoulder with his elbow. His eyes were still glued to the screen ahead. "I'll miss you, you know." Just in case he didn't come back, she should probably know that.

Who: Fisher and Rez
What: Making amends (hopefully) before Fisher leaves
Where: outside Elle's apartment
When: Monday early evening
Rating: R

It was a simple little operation that required a heavy duty extension cord and stolen equipment. Thankfully Godric Witt lived off campus, he would have murdered Fisher for taking his amp out into the grass like this. With his guitar on his back, Fisher plugged his amp into the outlet on the side of the building, hooked up the mic and his beautiful 1966 Gibson SG Les Paul (smokey grey and black around the edge). He wished he'd grabbed a bottle of jack or something while he'd been getting the extention cord, or maybe a bottle of cherry Coke, anything to make him feel less terrified right now. But it needed to happen. He'd fucked up, badly, and he had to do something to fix it. Something big.

Switching on the amp, turning the volume up as loud as it would go, he tapped on the mic to make sure it was working, a dull thud echoing back to him. It was working. Which meant that he had to do this. With a deep, shuddering breath, Fisher steeled himself. "Jonathan Reznick," he said clearly, cringing at how loudly his voice boomed through the air. Rez would hear him if he was inside, and Fisher was pretty certain he was. "I'm an asshole, and I'm an idiot, and I'm sorry. And now everyone in Staff Building A knows it too. You've always been great to me, and I've always been shit to you. You deserve better than me. But you're my best friend, Jonny! You're the best friend I've ever had, and so I'm gonna... oh, Jesus Christ I can't believe I'm gonna do this... I'm gonna embarass the shit outta myself because you're worth it. Because I've got nothing else to give you." Swallowing, groaning slightly, he strummed the strings of his guitar, cursing himself for his own stupidity as he started to play, soft voice carrying over the evening sky.

"You with the sad eyes
don't be discouraged
oh I realize
it's hard to take courage
in a world full of people
you can lose sight of it all
and the darkness inside you
can make you fell so small

But I see your true colors
shining through
I see your true colors
and that's why I love you
so don't be afraid to let them show
your true colors
true colors are beautiful
like a rainbow..."

Who: Fisher and James
What: The Last Goodbye
Where: Logan International Airport
When: 5pm
Rating: S for Sad


( He should run. Now. Before it was too late. Except it was already too late and he knew it. )

Who: Fisher and Declan
What: Talking and hiding
Where: On top of the water tower
When: Late afternoon
Rating: PG-13
Status: In progress

Fisher needed to think. He didn't want company today, he didn't want people asking him what was the matter, or to coddle him, or worse, tell him he was being an idiot. He just wanted to sit and drink and look up nonsense on his laptop and not be bothered. So he had tried to find someplace that no one would find him, and he believed he had it. The top of the water tower. Thankfully lugging Rez's crap around for a month had given him some upper body strength, because he wasn't just sitting on the railing along the outside of the tank. He dragged himself up onto the lip of the lid, and eventually got himself up at the very top, sitting near the apex to keep himself from drunkly falling off. Not that he was drunk, not yet, but the JD in his computer bag was going to take care of that.

Sitting up there in a sweatshirt, jeans and black studded boots, knees bent and laptop rested on them, Fisher looked both perfectly at peace and totally out of place. There was something to be said for voluntary solitary confinement.

( It really was quite beautiful up here. )

Who: Fisher and Lloyd
What: Hanging out like they do
Where: Lloyd's apartment
When: Friday evening
Rating: TBD


Despite having only been back a week, it felt to Fisher like forever. He was weary, stressed, and already longing for freedom from it. Maybe it was just this place, being away from feeling like he was in an asylum, or in rehab. Here he felt eternally watched, like people were waiting for him to screw up or were rolling their eyes at his stupidity. California had been lonely, but at least he had felt like he was capable, like he could survive on his own. He was a stranger in a strange land and nobody was judging him.

Wearing a black pair of jeans and a plain black zip-up hoodie (with a tee shirt on underneath), Fisher walked to Lloyd's apartment, flattening his hair for the umpteenth time. He was going over in his head what Lyle had told him. He didn't want to be the bitter friend that ruined other peoples' happiness just because misery loved company. When Lloyd got swoony, Fisher would just sit there and deal with it, and be happy for him because he did deserve it. Knocking on the door, he placed a subtle but believeable smile on his face. I am happy for Lloyd, he told himself. That's more important than my own misery.

Who: Rez and Fisher
What: Rez's Birthday!
Where: Elle's Apartment (to start)
When: Evening
Rating: ?

( He was tired. Damn tired. )

Who: Finn and Fisher
What: Getting drunk and talking
Where: Campus
When: Evening
Rating: TBA but probably high

( Rule breaking is a specialty of mine. Especially if there's booze involved. )