We Float

Who: Matt Cavanaugh and Ganesh Surendar
When: Friday, June 22, 2096
Where: The Nameless V-Club
What: In which, Matt and Ganesh make dick jokes, Ganesh gets splattered with blood, Matt almost loses it, and they run like scared little girls. Also, there's a lot of background violence.
Rating/Warnings: R, thank you. Momentary but descriptive graphic violence and several instances of it. Also, there's a chainsaw murderer.
Status: Log, Complete


The place that the two men entered was a small, dark room. Ganesh didn't recognize it- he had been in cyberspace before but on legitimate means. The Clubs were something new to him, the stuff of myth and monster. The fact that he was standing at the edge of the labyrinth, in a skin not his own, made the back of his neck tingle, his mouth sour as he looked down at his hands.

His fingers were now long and delicate, so pale that he could see blue veins spiderwebbed just under the surface. A couple of freckles spattered his wrists and he looked at them, feeling strangely alien despite the fact that he had taken this form to fit in.

He looked up at Matt, that confusion still clear in the brown eyes that were the only thing left of him in this avatar. A hand reached up, brushing a pale strand of hair away from his face as he straightened a newly muscular body and said, finding a grin, "I should've been nicer to Alec," as he looked pointedly down at his trousers.

"Wow," Matt said with a grin. "Ten fucking seconds and we're already onto dick jokes? Not sure that's going to go over well here."

( The difference here is that I know which wolves to toss you to. )

Who: Matt Cavanaugh and Maxxie Delacourt
When: Wednesday, June 23
Where: Anhalt Building
What: Discussing what both have figured out about how to restructure the group and make it be something everyone wants to be in.
Status: Closed, Incomplete

It probably looked like Matt simply had his eyes closed. At least, it probably looked like that on first glance, but the two fingertips trailing into the coffee in the cup by his hand likely gave the impression he was actually asleep, but it wasn't like the coffee was hot, or something. He still hadn't entirely decided to do anything about that, because he was trying to figure out the answer to the first labour.

Because really, how did you make an everlasting brownie?

He'd considered and discarded LSD (flashbacks counted as everlasting, right?), genetic resequencing so that Ganesh simply thought he had always just eaten a brownie (too expensive), a really large brownie (ridiculous), and a knitted brownie. The last was the most promising, given that Ganesh had never said it had to be edible.

Not that Matt could knit, but that was a problem for later.

He heard Maxxie's distinctive footsteps - tap, silence, tap tap tap, silence - where the silences were her blinking, and dropped his chair back down to all four feet, managing to get coffee in his eye as he brushed his hair back.

It was sort of a greeting when he looked at her, his eyes unfocused, and said something that most closely approximated to "Blargh."

Who: Matt Cavanaugh and Gabriel Wilder
What: A couple postponed meetings finally result in the real thing.
When: Monday, June 21, 8 pm (forward-dated, takes place after a yet-to-be-posted rp)
Where: Beth's Cafe, Seattle
Status: Open; in progress

What Gabe liked the most about Beth's was that it was one of the few places in the city that had gleefully embraced the lifting of the smoking ban. Most Seattle restaurants still clung to the idea that smoke tainted food or disdained the small pockets of ash that seemed to float to the bottom of Beth's floors but this cafe had gone as far as to place an ashtray on every table the moment the ban was lifted.

He ashed his cigarette in the one at his table, then slowly took a drag, staring at the ember at its tip.

He should have been home by now. Gabe knew it and yet he was sitting at a table, pulling out his notebook and sketching out the faces at a distant booth. Waiting for someone to come and tell him that the impossible was possible. His mind kept running over everything that had happened over the weekend. He wondered where his other self had gone after he'd locked him out. Wherever it had been, he was gone now.

Not for the first time, Gabriel felt guilty about leaving him in the cold. Them. He shuddered, wondering, and then went back to his idle sketching as the waitress set a second cup of coffee down in front of him. He smiled at her, ordered a piece of pie and went back to the drawing.

Who: Matt Cavanaugh, Zadkiel Thrush, and Alec Tremont (briefly)
When: Sunday, June 20, 2096
Where: Anhalt, then a flophouse in Ballard
What: A rescue mission
Status: Closed, Complete

"I have an address," Alec said. It was clear from the feverish, glazed look in his eyes that he hadn't yet slept. "They've been taunting me all night, electronic bread crumb trails that lead down digital dark alleys, but I finally have an address for where Barton is, and apparently not in very good shape. I expect it's a trap, so you should probably be prepared for that." He thrust the scrap of paper into the hands of the only person up and about. "I'm going to bed now. Ta."

Zadkiel stared at the information, uncertain what to do with it. A trap. Barton injured. He didn't even know who was home, or who would be of any help in this kind of situation. But one of them had a gun, and that would be a good thing to bring into a trap. He also seemed to be one of the more level-headed of the house's inhabitants, and that was good, too.

He padded upstairs and knocked on Matt's door.

Who: Maxxie Delacour and Matt Cavanaugh
When: Wednesday, June 9, 2096
Where: Matt's room
What: Matt tries to convince Maxxie to completely chick out with him.
Status: Closed, Incomplete

He opened the door to her knock, slightly surprised - he didn't remember anyone even knocking on the door before - but took the offered note calmly. As he read it, one eyebrow rose, and he looked up at her. "Come on in, then, princess."

He completely assumed, turning away to let her in, that she would follow; it never even occurred to him that she wouldn't, nor that she might be at all disturbed when he carefully set his cigarette into an ashtray and pulled his shirt off. "You can't just, like, look in the closet," he added, his voice slightly muffled. "Dresses are worn." But hey, she'd been in gymnastics for-fucking-ever, and TKD or whatever the hell else she did, she'd seen skin.

"As for the rest of it," he added, toeing his shoes off and using the opportunity to take a drag, "I haven't called a meeting because that's rather a statement of being the fucking leader, and I'm not even convinced I want to stay in this fucking country. I mean, that's not a fucking threat, I told you that already, it's just that going from christ I don't want this to yay, I will lead us all, is just a bit fucking weird, you know?"

Who: JT Cole and Matt Cavanaugh
When: Tuesday, June 1, 2096
Where: Jade-monkey, bar near the group house
What: Drinking and bonding, maybe
Status: Closed, Incomplete

JT eyed the decor of the "biker lesbian" bar with skepticism. Maybe it was worth the bus fare to go back down town to a bar he knows and likes, but he was tired from the little bit of moving he did today. He's going to call Tom and get his car for sure to get the rest. Rolling his neck to get out some kinks he heads up to the bar and grabs a drink menu, not sure what he's interested in.

Who: Matt Cavanaugh and Maxxie Delacourt
When: Thursday, May 20, 2096
Where: Starting at the house, and moving from there.
What: Matt and Maxxie meet for real
Status: Closed; incomplete

Matt hummed the snatch of an old song as he strode down the hall. It'd actually been about all of a day and nothing'd blown up yet, at least not that he knew about.

He considered that a win.

But he shook his head, even as he broke into scat. They were still as young as he'd feared. And he'd not seen Gabe again; he felt, frankly, like he was living in a kindergarten. He didn't think that was just the prison/college divide, either. It wasn't that he wanted to run, exactly, it was more that he wasn't going to be able to keep it together if he was the only one here who was of legal drinking age.

Well. For all he knew, some of the others were too, but he wasn't going to take that bet just yet.