[color=silver][right][i][b][u]TIMESTAMP:[/u] Monday, July 19th, 2021; Half past noon, after the [i]A Perfect Day[/i] Collab[/b][/i][/right] [indent][indent][center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/220708/510067ad6990f55f6ea86fb1504132f4.png[/img] [img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/220708/bba82da4e5c2bf4e25f9886632af188c.png[/img] [img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/220708/20586059d5d3eafca95654bf93d76491.png[/img] [img]https://i.imgur.com/ch4jZfz.png[/img] [img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/220722/ba218a4d25b4da6e8d880a864702996a.png[/img] [sub]A [@Lovely Complex], [@Aces Away] & [@Venus] Collab || featuring [color=00CED1]Findley Nelson[/color], [color=b3e7f4]Xavier Booker[/color] and [color=7fff00]Chase Warren[/color][/sub] [color=b3e7f4][b]________________________________________________________________________________[/b][/color] [color=00CED1][b]________________________________________________________________________________[/b][/color] [color=7fff00][b]________________________________________________________________________________[/b][/color][/center] When Findley Nelson had been informed that today would be the day that she would meet Chase's newest ‘friend’, the young woman had been nothing short of ecstatic. For as long as she could remember, Chase Warren hadn't shown an interest in anything other than his family, heavy rock music and beating bullies up with whatever he could find. Interpersonal relationships of any kind, be it romantic or platonic, were not something he actively sought after. It wasn't that he didn't have qualities that people would look for in a potential partner: he was handsome, intelligent, independent, caring, incredibly resourceful, and would put his life on the line to protect those who deserved it without a second thought. His problem was that, because of the cards he'd been dealt in life, he tended to push people away with his limited impulse control, sharp tongue, blunt demeanor and violent streak. But ever since the Disney Princess From The Northside had entered his life, Fin had noticed heaps of positive changes in her close friend's life. He seemed happier, more hopeful, and was allowing himself to dream of a life beyond being a high school dropout delivery boy. She could tell, by the way his eyes lit up when she came up in conversation and how often he smiled now, that he was falling for this girl. And Fin was more than happy to help him navigate this new adventure. The introduction picnic was to take place at one of the tables and benches in Lyon's Park at noon. It was the perfect time to do it, too. Fin had gotten plenty of hours of good sleep the night before, and being in the middle of her second trimester meant that the energy levels that had been sapped away from her in the first trimester were now restored and at an all-time high. So at five minutes to noon, the appointed mother hen of the Southies was occupied wiping the seats and picnic tables at the park, and organizing the items her dutiful boyfriend Xavier and Chase were unloading from the car. [color=00CED1]“Have you guys heard from Ransom and Dutchess yet?"[/color] Findley asked the young men with a little huff, taking a break from her cleaning to lean against the table and rub an affectionate hand on her round stomach. It seemed like her daughter could sense the excitement in the air, because she had been kicking up a storm and making it a little harder to breathe. [color=00CED1]"I asked her to bring the ice and drinks a few hours ago, but I haven’t heard from her since."[/color] Holding three large deep foil trays with honey barbecue, barbecue, and buffalo wings, TNT looked at Prof in a way that read [i]‘should I tell her?’[/i]. He didn’t think it was his place to tell his best friend about all the events that transpired this past night (or well early morning). He told Prof just in case, who knows if they’d need to do damage control, seeing how Ransom, a taken man, was in the Sinclair house with two young, single northie chicks. It was beyond their control and Chase could, and would, vouch for his boy. Ransom was innocent and he did [i]nothing[/i]. Well, if Ransom did tell Dutchess everything, from the car ride to them eating pie with Autumn and Carrie… heh, rest in pieces, man. Dutchess wouldn’t take it as [i]nothing[/i]. Dutchess would likely see him as disloyal. It didn’t help that they already had a shaky relationship due to Tov enabling him and vice versa. The thing TNT was learning real quick about the female species was they worried about many things, [i]so many things[/i]. You miss one goodnight? She might think you’re mad at her. You don’t send a good morning text? She might think you’re mad at her. You don’t remind her you’re thinking about her? She might think you’re mad at her. You don’t make time to see her every so often, like take her out on a joy ride, walk Main Street and check out some records, or watch Legally Blonde? She might think you’re mad at her. There was no winning. Not when there was a girl that made you better and she expected more from you. Striding his way down the pathway, looking at Fin with a straight face, in an ironed black t-shirt that fitted him well, black jeans, and matching boots, TNT shrugged, [color=7fff00]“Hell if I know. We were out for a bit.”[/color] He met her gaze, trying his best to cover Ransom’s tail without putting him on blast. [color=7fff00]“Could still be sleeping,”[/color] Chase added. His hair was growing out. He hadn’t decided if he should cut it or let it grow yet, so instead he sleeked it back. Hopefully, he looked nice. He didn’t have an array of clothes so these were his pieces that were the least worn. He had multiple black shirts, mind you, this was just the one in the best condition. He should’ve made time and shopped for a new outfit, knowing Tiff she was coming in like a supermodel. Christ, he needed to chill. Why was he worried about this shit anyways? He never cared before. Today made no difference. Xavier Booker continued helping his girlfriend and friend set up the picnic table, silently laughing at the internal conflict he could read across Chase's face. Whether or not Ransom told Prof's baby cousin about their adventure last night was irrelevant because despite the constant arguments with the man when he was by her side, she could handle being away from him even less. Any thoughts that someone could take him away from her would cause a reaction that was equal parts petty and violent. Dolce really never seemed to have developed any of the Booker calm outside of not reacting to her siblings' jokes and taunts. Unlike much of her family, himself included, who went cold and calculative when facing an obstacle, Dolce went more the route of her lover and their shared best friend in that things got… [i]Explosive[/i]. Keeping anything from Findley, however, was a mistake he would never even dream to make. Honestly, Chase should know better by now. Sliding up behind his love and pressing against her back, hands reaching forward to rest on her baby bump, Prof kissed the back of her head. [color=#b3e7f4]"Short version is things got a little wild on the Northside early this mornin' and they ended up at the Doctor's house havin' pie with his daughters and usin' their first aid kit. That's all Dolce needed to hear to flip her lid when Ran told her. He spent the night at Demo's and passed out in bed with Tov, so Demo's going to bring them both up."[/color] He almost felt bad for Ransom. Almost. Because while he'd lived in Serpent dorms and apartments since the death of his mother, there was a while where Shale had assumed guardianship over him until he could become an emancipated minor. They had never forced Xavier to live with them and Dolce, but they did request he and Findley always stop by for meals. It was a smart way to make sure Xavier stayed connected to his family and cousins, ensuring a strong foundation for the young genius to continue building off of. So Xavier grew up seeing Dolce as more of a younger sibling than a younger cousin. Meaning that, much like Ducaleon and Leonidas, he didn't think that anyone would be good enough for her. Did he think the man would cheat? Absolutely not, while their relationship is actually defined at least. Did he find it a little funny when he brings hell raining down upon himself due to a stupid night of drinking? Absolutely. [color=#b3e7f4]"Maybe we just avoid startin' that conversation if we can, yeah?"[/color] Findley pressed her lips together in a tight line and merely nodded. [color=00CED1]“Guess that explains why she sounded like she had a bad case of laryngitis when I called her this morning…”[/color] she muttered under her breath, deciding to keep the rest of the thoughts to herself. The difficult part about dating someone you were raised with was that they knew everything about you-- the good, the bad, and the ugly--, and they could use this knowledge to either build you up or tear you down. It wasn’t that Ransom and Dutchess actively sought out to hurt each other-- not on purpose, anyway. Their biggest problem was that they failed to use their knowledge of one another to nurture what they had. She knew that relationships like hers and Xavier’s were a dime a dozen-- she wasn’t clueless, idealistic or naive. But her take on Callum and Dolce’s relationship had always been the same: they both needed [b]a lot[/b] of growing up to do, heaps more communication, and learning how to compromise equally. Until they reached a point in which they committed to putting in real effort to fully understand one another and improve, then they’d never find the peace and happiness they deserved. But these were musings best saved for a better day. Today was all about helping Chase land this very special surprise for his very special girl. [color=00CED1]“In that case-- what else are we missing?”[/color] Fin asked the two men, straightening up and looking around the table for a quick inventory. [color=00CED1]“We’ve got the cutlery, the plates, the napkins, ice and drinks are hopefully on the way… What about the food? I know you’re about to get the wings from the backseat, Chase, but what about the rest of it?”[/color] [color=#b3e7f4]“I’ll go get it, love, rest up for a little bit,”[/color] Prof announced before heading over to their cars to get the veggie and fruit trays from the front seat, calling over his shoulder, [color=#b3e7f4]“You’ve been moving since before we even got here!”[/color] while he made his way. They weren’t anything special, just store bought assortment trays you see at almost any medium sized gathering. He had brought some platters from their house to set everything out on, however, in a small gesture to Chase to show that he too was happy to be meeting the Northie girl that had captured his attention. Looking at the stack he would be carrying, Prof eyed the Hawaiian rolls for a moment until he came to a decision and grabbed the bag, gripping the plastic between his teeth before grabbing the trays and platters and heading back to his love, trying not to look at the glovebox as he closed the door behind him. Today was for Chase and Tiffannie’s happiness so he could wait a few more hours to pull out that small velvet box and show his own intentions of a new level of relationship with his own blonde. Setting everything on the table, Prof grinned at Fin and began transferring the appetizers to their platters. He looked back towards the cars to the explosive man they were all going to be there for. After winking at her boyfriend, Findley shifted her attention to Chase, who was dangerously trying to juggle all three trays of wings from the car to the picnic table. As she watched the questionable way the aluminum trays were stacked on top of each other, her maternal instincts kicked up immediately. [color=00CED1]“That looks like a lot, Chase. Is it okay if I help you with those?"[/color] she kindly asked the dark-haired man, moving away from the table in preparation to assist him. Chase hadn’t made it to the table because his phone had started ringing. He knew exactly who was calling. He didn’t have any special ringtones, he just knew there was only one person that would call him. He didn’t get many calls from anyone else, mostly texts. He debated how to move forward. Reach for his phone or go to the table first. He was holding three large trays of wings. The logical route was to go to the table first. With all his nerves, he wasn’t thinking clearly so instead he shifted the trays and reached for his phone (all the while walking). Following afterwards, TNT tripped and the wings flew out of his grasp and straight to the ground. Somehow, each tray opened up and the wings splattered everywhere. Honey BBQ, BBQ, buffalo sauce and meat covered the grass, like a murder scene. [b][i]Fuck.[/i][/b] No sooner than the words had left her mouth, Findley watched as Chase made a split-second decision to reach for his cell phone and tripped in the process. With the sudden change in weight distribution and an already jeopardized arrangement, the trays had slid from his hands and fallen on the floor. As she assessed the damage of the wings now littering their vicinity, Fin moved her attention to Chase and immediately grimaced at what she could read all over his face. [color=00CED1][i]Uh oh…[/i][/color] At the fifth ring, he picked up the phone and swallowed his seething anger. He didn’t need to come across as angry at Tiff. Knowing her, she would blame herself for his anger-- she always did. She should expect a good time, not a bad time. It wasn’t her fault his coping skills sucked. With pursed lips, he listened to her frantic words on the other end. He took a deep breath in, and then out, before replying. [color=7fff00]“It’s going to be okay.”[/color] Furrowing his eyebrows, stressed out how everything was going wrong and how he ruined his date before it even started, Chase looked away from his friends, clenching his free hand into a fist. It was fine. She wasn’t going to be disappointed. He was overthinking - just because the main entree was now ant food didn’t mean she wouldn’t have a good time. There were still many positive things yet to come. There were still reasons for her to smile. There were still people willing to support him through this mishap. [i]You didn’t ruin anything. [/i] [color=7fff00]“Don’t worry about it. It’s good. You’re good. I’m good. We’re both good.”[/color] The more he talked the more he realized he was trying to convince himself that this wasn’t the end. He had royally fucked up everything all because he wasn’t thinking. Of course he thought he could shorten prep time by carrying too much. Of course he’d trip and drop it all. Of course he’d ruin his chances because this was him and he was filled with bad-fucking-luck. A classic Chase move, honestly. Clenching his teeth while listening to her, the boiling sensation never leaving him, knowing it only took one word he’d lose it, Chase strongly stated, [color=7fff00]“We’re going to be okay.”[/color] Right now he needed her to stop crying so he could focus on how he could fix this. It was so hard to end conversations when she got like this. It hurt hearing her cry. He could imagine how her face was with every word. It hurt more so because it was his fault for setting the bar so high. Wanting to clarify, to make sure she was on the same page, he asked, [color=7fff00]“Understand, Tiff?”[/color] Chase was no longer paying attention to anyone but the woman he was talking on the phone with. At least on the surface, he looked like he was calming down and that was likely thanks to him hearing her voice. At least on the surface, there was no sight of the blazing inferno inside his skinny body. At least on the surface, he seemed okay. [color=#b3e7f4]“I guess I shouldn’t have asked…”[/color] Prof stated blandly as he watched the chaos that just unfolded before him and his girlfriend, both of whom were too far away to stop any of the dominoes from falling. He kept his tone low despite the distance, not wanting to upset Chase any more than the man already was. Taking a deep breath for himself as he watched Chase do the same for his phone call, the chemist interlocked his fingers behind his head and stared at the sky for a moment to shift his focus from the wing massacre. He looked at the trees and took in how the leaves had turned their undersides to the sky in preparation for a coming storm, one that the humans in the park could just barely feel the stirrings of now. There are signs of change everywhere, if you knew how to look. [color=#b3e7f4]“I’ll text Demo,”[/color] he finally said to the blonde beside him as he let his eyes fall on Chase’s form once more, and he was a bit surprised to see how well Chase had controlled his physical response while he spoke into his cell. Pulling out his own cell, the serpent moved back to rest against the picnic table and update Chase and Ollie’s father of the situation. [color=#b3e7f4]“Are you gonna check on him or does he need to be alone right now?”[/color] He asked Findley belatedly, realizing that looking calm and being calm have always been two very different monsters for Chase to tackle. Findley silently shook her head to the first option and nodded her head to the second one. [color=00CED1]"Would [i]you[/i] approach a wolf when it's baring its teeth and they're foaming at the mouth?"[/color] the blonde asked her boyfriend in a low voice. Having the insight into Chase's personality like she did, she knew better than to approach him in the middle of a stressful situation like this. He wasn't just angry or upset-- he was [i]seething[/i], and trying his damndest to not let it show. The signs were all there, crystal clear for those who knew where to look: the clenched teeth, the tense muscles, the octave drop in his tone of voice… To go near him right now would be a suicide mission. He wasn't called TNT for no reason. She took Xavier's silence as her answer. [color=00CED1]"Exactly. All we can do right now is pick up these wings from the floor and give him some space to go wild for a bit before we even say a word to him."[/color] [color=#b3e7f4]“I think I’ll wait for him to be further away from them before I try to go near them. I’m not lookin’ to be the last thing that sets him off,”[/color] he replied back, following his girlfriend’s logic. He looked back down to his phone to send the text he’d drafted, and with a single tap it was on its way to Demo. [color=#b3e7f4]“You know that Demo’s not gonna have any back up food, so what are we gonna do to fix… that part of this situation?”[/color] Fin's mind raced with the potential solutions to the problem, and it wasn't long before her quick, sharp mind came up with something. [color=00CED1]"We could always get some loaves of French bread, different kinds of lunch meat and some toppings from the grocery store and set it up like a self-serve sandwich bar?"[/color] she proposed. [color=00CED1]"It's quick, cheap and super easy to put together in a pinch like this one."[/color] [color=#b3e7f4]“That’s a good idea,”[/color] Prof complimented his girlfriend with a kiss to the top of her head, pulling out his phone again as it buzzed and glancing at the new message. [color=#b3e7f4]“Oh, the guys are already on the way. Dolce still hasn’t replied to me yet.”[/color] That girl, he swears, if she’s crying in her room instead of heading over he’d throw her under the bus to Shale. [color=7fff00]“Good. See you soon.”[/color] The moment Chase was no longer on the call his phone went flying out of his hand and straight into the tree by the picnic table, shattering it. He needed to calm down. This wasn’t a big deal. It really wasn’t. He just ruined his goddamn date. On top of that, it was his fault that Tiff overslept. He should’ve told her to go the fuck to sleep and deal with her tears later, instead of keep her up 4am in the fucking morning. He fucked up and that’s all he could hear in his head. You’re a fuck up. You’re a fuck up. You’re a fuck up. His violent temper was about to erupt, and to all those that did know him, knew it was the result of trauma. A lot of fucking trauma. Chase never learned how to cope and by the time Demo took him in, it was too late. Some people were born to handle temporary stress, temporary rises in the brain, temporary pain to the body, to the heart, and to the mind, but not consistently, everyday, for years and as a child no less. Chase, or now TNT, was a victim to his inner storm, an erratic soldier combating PTSD. He [i]fucked[/i] up. Cracking his knuckles and his neck, his mind and body went on auto pilot. He trudged to the picnic table and angrily swiped the food off. This was his mindscape. His own personal hell. Everything that was set up thus far was getting thrown off in every direction, like the rage scene in The Shining where Jack Torrance tosses shit aside. A few soda cans darted toward Prof and Fin, the Hawaiian rolls tragically kissed the dirt, and all the appetizers were no longer appetizing. TNT was livid. He was so heated that he grabbed the picnic table and flipped it the fuck over, then proceeded to kick the benches so they were no longer standing upright. When his phone was in sight, he stomped on it a couple of times. Fuck him for even trying. As soon as [i]TNT[/i] made his way towards them, or rather the picnic table Prof had been leaning against, the logical man pushed off of it and took himself and his girlfriend a few healthy strides away from the object of their friend's ire, though they weren't able to get too far before he'd reached it. The strength with which Chase was violently swiping things off the table meant there wasn't really a safe distance and Prof found himself pushing Findley behind him when the cans came flying in their direction, most either flying passed them or hitting his chest, but one can caught him across the lower part of his face hard enough to make his teeth clatter together. To make matters worse, one of the platters Chase cast to the earth had been his mother's, and Prof only brought it out for special occasions. Watching the ceramic hit the patchy grass and break into several pieces sent his heart into his throat and it throbbed along with fat lip and growing bruise from the full soda can. His shoulders were rigid and squared as he stood like a shield between the chaos and his pregnant girlfriend, clenching and unclenching his fists as he forced himself to remain steady in the face of TNT's explosion. Just as she recognized some of the workings of Chase’s mind, Findley recognized those of her life partner. The rigid posture, the clenching of fists, the sudden drop in any friendly, approachable demeanor… The few times she had seen Xavier get like this, what often followed was bodies being pushed against walls or floors, fists colliding with jaws and noses, an unrecognizable absence of any readable emotion in his face. When it seemed like any harm was coming to his loved ones, Xavier went from the friendly, good-natured man the Southies called 'Dad' to the fiercest of protectors. But because she knew any actions could only aggravate the volatile situation, Fin knew it was her duty to try and de-escalate the anger of at least one of her current companions. [color=00CED1]“Xavier, stay calm,”[/color] Findley whispered in Prof’s ear as she tightly held onto his arm, a silent plea in her voice for her boyfriend to maintain his composure during this nerve-racking situation. As anxious and scared as she got whenever the scorching volcano that was Chase’s temper erupted, she knew that showing her feelings would only put Xavier more on edge. They needed to be the level-headed adults in this situation. [color=00CED1]“He’s not himself right now. Please don’t take any of this personally. It’ll make him feel worse when he snaps out of it.” [/color] [color=#b3e7f4]"I know babe,"[/color] he answered back, posture still rigid and face showing a complete detachment from his emotions. He knew Chase and he knew the younger man wasn’t in control of himself right now. He knew that when the rampage was over he’d come back to himself and feel like shit for everything he didn’t even remember doing. He’d seen it in damn near every Carlisle crew member at least once over the years, but it’s been chronic for Chase for as long as they’ve really known the pale man. It never really got any easier for anyone to see. [color=#b3e7f4]“I’m calm,”[/color] Xavier assured amidst his thoughts, keeping an eye on Chase’s slow path of destruction. [color=#b3e7f4]"I can fix a platter…maybe, it’s just an object in the end, I guess,”[/color] he rationalized out loud, following with, [color=#b3e7f4]“[i]But[/i] if he hurts you at all then I'm perfectly prepared to calm him down the hard way,"[/color] the older man promised darkly, allowing his girlfriend to pull him back and closer to her, the two of them taking a few more slow steps back. He may not be a fighter at the Pit, but that was because he didn’t fight for fun or for money, he fought to put an end to something, and if Chase was close to bringing harm to Findley and their baby then that made him a temporary threat that needed to be dealt with. [color=00CED1]“He wouldn't do that,"[/color] Findley assured Xavier, resting her chin on his shoulder. [color=00CED1]“TNT may be what he is, but I know he wouldn't hurt me. Please trust me on this."[/color] Luckily for everyone involved, it seemed Chase’s chaos was headed for the other side of the picnic area now. [color=#b3e7f4]“Okay,”[/color] Prof breathed out softly. [color=#b3e7f4]“Okay.”[/color] In time, after causing havoc on their general area, which includes kicking down the park trash bin and slamming his right fist into a nearby tree numerous times, TNT was all out of steam and Chase was back in control. There was a moment of silence while he looked at his bloody hand. Wounds he made a few days ago, reopening. He had just gotten the bandaid off yesterday too. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the mess he made and he saw the two watching him, trying to hide their fear and anger. The darkness crept over him as quickly as the anger did moments ago. He ruined everything. How could an LA girl ever like someone like him? Tiffannie was born in a world he would never understand and with how genuinely she felt about everyone and everything, this would kill her. She could never like someone so deeply disturbed and even if she did, she deserved so much better. How could he keep her safe if he didn’t know what made him tick? How could he protect her if he couldn’t even protect his little brother? How could he make her happy when he didn’t even know what happiness was? Chase rested his bloody hand on his face, covering his eyes, as the image of his birth parents flashed so quickly. Memories he tried so hard to suppress, like him and his brother hiding in the basement, listening to Metallica or Ozzy Osbourne. The screams and malicious attacks, the loud noises of glass breaking and furniture being thrown around, the words that cut his and his brother’s hearts like a sharp dagger would; all these sounds rang in his ears like it was only yesterday. He could see it. That smile, his father’s awful fucking smile… imprinted on his mind. And then it got worse. He saw Zippo, or Fiona Dawson, his chosen mother, the one he loved with all his heart, die on the hospital bed. Just die. He was powerless. He had no control over misery and death. He couldn’t protect anyone. He was useless. Why did he ever think he could make this work with Tiff? Why did he ever think he deserved her? And just like that, the tears silently ran down Chase’s face. He hadn’t cried in so long. What the fuck was this? Overcome with emotion, the suffering Warren kid, one of Demo’s and Zippo’s firecrackers, ran like a bat out of hell. [color=00CED1]“[i]Wait! No, Chase--- WAIT![/i]"[/color] But he was gone. Just like that. Beaten, broken, and bruised, he couldn’t pretend to be okay. No, not in front of Tiffannie. He was NOT okay. In a blink of an eye, Chase Warren was running away from his problem. Just like that. He was gone. [/indent][/indent][/color]