Altered Tundra

Pines Holler [Not Accepting]

_{Location: Pines Holler Fairgrounds Interacting with: Luna & Stella Vega @Altered Tundra, Valen Lockwood @Kaiidth Mentions: Dallas, Clive}

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For how hesitant Stella was to go out and have fun, she sure was living it up - or living it as much as someone like her could. Forced to actually do things, per her sister who dragged her to about five stands (most of which were games) and carrying arms full of prizes she won, Stella was laughing at the absurdity of how huge these stuffed animals were. Two pandas - one regular black and white, and a red one - a bear that looked like a rip off of Yogi, and another rip of a classic cartoon but this one was Scooby-Doo. She wondered why her sister wanted these but then again, she also wondered just when it was Luna got so good at those shooting games.

She had a moment - a second of curiosity that made her want to ask, but then she thought better of it. She remembered how Luna, before Stella left, was pretty adamant about wanting to joint he military, so she went shooting. She recalls how she took lessons from some of the Fallen Angels who held a stake in the shooting range. Think it was Clive Evermore who helped teach Luna when she was younger. She heard that guy got out of prison recently. She hasn’t heard much but not like it mattered. She didn’t really know him so why would she care?

Either way, Luna seemed pretty adamant about going to the Dunk Tank next.

“Oh that evil bitch, Ms. Henderson is this year’s sacrifice and she always failed me until I kicked my final’s ass.” An evil aura suddenly consumed her baby sister and she went full crazy latina. Bueno, ahora toca pagar, perra!” Luna started laughing and Stella was looking at her and before she even realized it, she collided head-to-chest first with someone. It was a hard crash because the stuffed animals were down, covered in red. It was a stuffin massacre.

“Nooo!” Luna cried, “Roly Poly, Coco, Bogi, Rappy-Roo!” The names for the panda, red panda, yogi-rip off, and scooby-doo-rip off respectively.

“Mierda, eso dolió.” Stella rubbed her head as it throbbed and looked at the ground. She squinted at what covered the stuffed animals and swore that was…fruit salad? “What the hell…” She looked up, slowly the realization of who it was started to stir a memory three years old. Those long locks, an irony of the man’s surname, the jaw, the eyes, the way he used to grab--”Valen?!?!?” Stella chriped a lot louder than she should have but you would to if you literally ran into somebody that you haven’t seen in three fucking years. THREE! FUCKING! YEARS! “What are you…why are you…when…What are you doing HERE?!”

Valen had only just cleared Sal's stall maybe a minute prior and was debating whether to sip the water when the choice was made for him. The open bottle went flying out of his hand as a shorter body slammed into his chest, the fruit cup following as it dropped from his unsuspecting, loose grip.

“Jesus Christ, do you not watch where the f—” His temper flared at once, but fizzled even faster as a shockingly familiar face peered up at him. Someone was crying out gibberish next to the woman in front of him, but his brain was either too intoxicated or too stunned to comprehend the noise.

Then it clicked—his name. She definitely said his name, and he realized a second too late that he was staring. His empty hands still hovered mid-air—his train of thought entirely disrupted by the sight of someone he never expected to see again. “Stella?" His voice was a sharp contrast to the budding explosion from a moment ago. He blinked at the rapid-fire onslaught of questions, too dazed to answer them right away. Instead, his palms found her shoulders—though whether it was to steady her or himself was anyone's guess.

"I live here,” he landed on, choosing to pick out one question from the barrage, too disoriented to process them all in order. “What… you? Are you here for the festival?” he asked back, forcing a slight bit of space between them in a delayed effort to check on her well-being. It was the wrong move; his heel caught on a sopping stuffed animal, sending him off-balance. "Fuck,” he grunted, struggling to keep them upright as his shoulder landed roughly against the ring toss booth.

As Stella was trying to process that Valen-fucking-Lockwood was here, which that alone would have been enough to send her spiraling into asking herself a million questions (which she already started bombarding him with), he then dropped a bombshell on top of everything else.

“Oh yeah, you live here. That makes sense…” Stella’s head was spiraling and she felt like she was one more push before she would start seeing Tweety Bird. “WAIT YOU LIVE HERE?!” And now she was yelling again. Valen lives here and wait.. “Here for the festival? You’re kidding right?” She was breathing heavy and fast.

Luna, after she got over the untimely deaths of her stuffed animals, realized what was happening. Stella having a freak out over…Officer Lockwood? What lore did she miss? “So…maybe let’s take a step back.” Luna said, stepping forward, looking between her sister and Officer Lockwood. “So…Stella clearly knows you and you know her…clearly.” Luna looked between them, realizing the reaction her sis was having was far more serious than she figured. “…Officer Lockwood…we--we meaning myself, my sister, our tio, and our grandparents - live here too. Stella here was born in Pines. I’m sure she would’ve told you but…” She comedically gestured to Stella currently in the middle of a breathing fit. “Maybe let’s move past that so my sister Darth Vader and you can actually have a conversation.”

“Also…YOU’RE GONNA PAY FOR THE DEATHS OF MY STUFFIES!” Luna pointed a finger into Officer Lockwood’s face, gesturing to Roly Poly, Coco, Bogi, and Rappy-Roo.

Valen lifted his eyebrows, at a loss as to whether Stella's loud reaction was positive or not. Beating him to the punch, the woman at Stella's side spoke first. Sisters—that made perfect sense, seeing them side-by-side—but the news that they were living in Pines drew him up short.

He leaned heavily back against the stall, his brain trying to slog its way through the revelation. His thoughts veered off course, however, at the young Vega’s exclamation about… death? A flicker of confusion passed over his face before he peered down at the tripping hazard being ground under his boot.

He glanced at Stella—his mind still blown that she was actually standing in front of him—before crouching down to pull it out from underfoot. Looking it over, the faux fur was stained red with fruit sauce, a dark shoeprint smooshing in what had to be the snout. If he had to guess, it was supposed to be some kind of dog. He attempted to brush some of the sauce off with his thumb, which only served to push the color in deeper. Red was a fitting irony.

He gave his head a short, firm shake before running his free hand through his hair. Staggering back to his full height, he passed the ruined prize into the pointing hand with a thin trace of humor on his expression. "I'll take my chances in court. I reckon I'll get an acquittal since it was your… stuffies that attacked me first.”

He cleared his throat, locking his gaze back onto Stella. “So… what? You've been here for three years without running into me? How—how the hell is that possible?”

Stella managed to calm herself. Once she was over the initial shock, she was processing it. “Bout as possible as you have been here and never ran into me,” her reply, though not meant to be bitter, might’ve came out that way. She shouldn’t be, though. Why would she feel bitter or salty about? He didn’t know she was here and she clearly didn’t realize he had been here. “I can’t say I’ve been the most social. I’ve rarely been able to take days for myself. My grandparents you know…”

Stella remembered telling Valen about her hometown and why she had to move back. Because they were never serious serious, she never mentioned the specifics. Never told him where it was in case he wanted to find her, never told him what happened to her abuelo. Only that she was needed back home. She remembered how he mentioned he was moving too, but for them both to be here, at the same time was…a lot to deal with. Now that she was thinking about it, maybe there were signs. Maybe he did mention it to her and she just blocked it out.

“So…you’re here for three years at least.” She opened the floor for him. “You like it here?”

Valen couldn’t dispute her logic. Apparently, regardless of the town’s dwindling size, they had just managed to avoid each other. It might have been the alcohol, but he'd almost detected some resentment in her words. Had he known she was in Pines… frankly, he wasn’t sure what knowing that sooner would have done.

He’d been with Dallas—was still in love with Dallas—but they had maintained a casual contact over the years as friends, which was generally what they had been. Outside of the very heated, and often intoxicated, hookups they shared back in New York… their relationship, if that was what you would call it, had never gone deeper.

Neither had been in the right mindset for it then—which, if his recent break-up with Dallas proved anything, was that Stella had probably dodged a stray bullet there. The hell he'd dragged Dallas through was awful enough, and he couldn't fathom putting that on top of everything else Stella was dealing with.

Despite the wavering edges of his vision, his posture grew oddly still as he listened. He took in her explanation with silent understanding, recalling the vague texts he’d gotten about her need to return home. His brows furrowed at the question, prompting him to glance around once more—briefly taking in the dingy fair around them that the locals seemed so damn proud of. Did he like it in Pines?

“Sure,” he answered passively, his strained smile likely failing to hide the dismissal in his tone. “I’d ask you the same, but sounds like you’ve had a rough time here. I hadn’t heard from you in a while, so I hoped things were better,” he admitted, stuffing his rough hands into his pockets now that he had nothing to hold.

He stared at her face, at the expression there that was masking more than she wanted to let on, but the young woman with Stella had him holding back from prying. Now wasn't the time—not when she was obviously supposed to be having fun after taking time away from whatever burden she had going on.

“Well, you've got my number. We should grab a drink sometime. I'm a better listener now than I was,” he confessed with an almost apologetic tilt to his mouth. If Stella had ever wanted to talk during their time in the city, Valen was sure he hadn't exactly given her the opportunity to do so.

There was a moment in the silence, when Valen wasn’t speaking…when neither of them were speaking, where Stella stared at him. Not wanting to seem like there was anything there (there wasn’t) but a familiar warmth crawled up her spine. It pulsed through her body and there was a feeling in the air she hadn’t felt since New York. In her mind’s eye, she remembered how much time spent with Valen, no matter which form it took, made her feel.

Smiling, she would just nod at his invitation. “And you still have mine. I’d say don’t be a stranger but our forced-no contact these past three years clearly made it as much,” she admitted with a laugh. Well at least they were past the awkwardness and she could laugh. “Yeah, I think I can manage that some time. It’ll be nice being able to vent to a friend that isn’t my sister--”

“Well fuck you too puta!” Luna said sarcastically.Her smile was evident that she knew it was a joke. Stella just stuck her tongue out at Luna in response.

Her witty comeback coaxed a brief laugh from him, his posture loosening as he glanced between them with subtle amusement at the bickering. “Right, well, that sounds like my cue to bolt. I'll—uh, see if I can replace those,” he told the younger of the two, nodding down to the mess of red fur. "I'm a decent shot at those target games. If you end up with some time to kill, Stel, I'm sure I'll be around here somewhere," he added to Stella, choosing to leave it as an open invitation.

She was under no obligation to change her plans now that they'd run into each other, but the thought of navigating the fairgrounds with her sounded less daunting than having to wander aimlessly on his own.

Stella briefly looked at Luna, unsure what to say and of course her sister would give her no opinion on the matter, suddenly being transfixed with her phone. Right cause god-forbid you give an opinion now. Stella mentally shook herself and just…went with it. It might not be such a bad idea for old friends to spend some time together. “Sure, sounds fun I guess.” She still had reservations but no backing out now. She gave Luna a wave and left with her old friend.

Pines Holler [Not Accepting]

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______________________________________	______________________________________________________________________________________ 🔥 LOCATION 🔥 Pine Holler Fairgrounds 🔥 OUTFIT 🔥 See left 🔥 INTERACTING WITH 🔥 Mollie @Moon Child, Ryan @Sugar and Spite, mentions Sylvester, Kent ______________________________________________________________________________________

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It wouldn’t be an understatement to say the last week was hell for the rookie of the Pines Holler PD. An understatement would be that he was mildly annoyed with his partner or with Dal and how she just sprung her new romance with Clive Evermore on him without really a warning. An understatement was how miserable it was being at home after being in the unforgiving heat without any power (which thankfully came back after three fucking day).

No, Aiden Quinn went to hell and back and finally FINALLY! He has a day off. He was forever grateful for it but he was even more so because it coincided with the 4th of July Festival at the fairgrounds. He was more than grateful for the fact he didn’t have to worry about which scumbag was up to no good on this day. He wouldn’t have to arrest anyone or do any fucking paperwork. Let the night shift handle that.

Tonight, Aiden was free as a bird and you bet your ass he was going to enjoy himself.

Aiden had already been at the festival for about an hour. He was hungry and had an appetite for something sweet, so his first stop was by the funnel cake stand. When he got in line, he looked at how long the line was, leaning to the side first to see he was a few people behind. Speaking of that, he looked behind him and saw Mollie King. He didn’t fully expect to see her out and about. Everyone knew how she had been taking Kent’s death and Aiden was the last person to ever judge how long it would take someone to rejoin society. It took him almost a year to find reasons to get out of the house for more than a drink or a bite to eat.

It appeared Mollie was at that point. “Hey Mollie,” he said, not in any excited tone but more so a simple greeting. He didn’t want to bring any attention to her. “Enjoying the festival?”

Mollie, who had been taking the opportunity to do some people watching (sprinkled in with mental judging of some) with her eyes shielded behind dark sunglasses, turned around at the sound of her name, and smiled when she noticed who it was. "Hey Aiden," she greeted the young man addressing her. His close friendship with Dallas meant she was well-acquainted with him, so it wasn't strange that he would strike up some small talk. "In my own way," she answered with a devious grin. "The heat and I don’t get along, but I couldn't help swinging by to get some food," she explained, taking a few steps forward as the person in front of her moved up the line. "How about you? Having any fun yet?"

Aiden made a slight chuckle at the heat comment. He felt that to his core. The line was proceeding quickly. Seems like the person running the stand was making quick work. Aiden noticed it was just one other person before it was his turn. At her question, Aiden smiled and nodded. “Already played a few games. I intend on getting my grub on. First cake, then I might stop by Sylvester’s elote stand and get me one of those. And who knows? Maybe I’ll get a deep-fried mars bar too.” Aiden had intended to maximize this one golden opportunity at this festival in pigging out. He was off and he would really just enjoy himself to the max.

The line moved up again and then it was Aiden’s turn. Quickly said “One funnel cake please.” The person running the stand nodded and started to make it.

Aiden turned around one more time. “How you doing by the way?”

Mollie chucked at Aiden's reply. It seemed like she wasn't the only one planning to go all out for food tonight. "Sounds like you have it all covered and planned out," she teased, lightly poking him in the arm.

At his inquiry about her well-being, the blonde offered him a small smile. "Better," she answered with a nod. "Still miss him like crazy, but every day it gets a little easier."

That was a sentiment that Aiden could understand completely. That feeling of being so overwhelmed by trauma that you can't even get out of bed or find the desire to want to. He knew that feeling all too well and what he knew about Mollie's situation, he knew she knew that feeling better than anyone, but there was something like a light in this dark that he could see.

She was out and about and not still at home.

"We all go at our own pace, but.." he paused, seeing that his cake was ready and he grabbed it, "the fact you're here is a great first step!” He raised his funnel cake up like a toast. "Hope you have fun if you plan on staying, if not then, well see ya around!"

After he left the funnel cake stand, Aiden wandered about, enjoying the sights. Earlier he was unsuccessful at some of the games, so now he was rewarding his failures with food. So first it was funnel cake. The next stop was Sylvester’s elote stand, where he would help himself to a big elote on the cob.

So to recap: in one hand, Aiden held the remains of a funnel cake that was nearly gone and in the other, he held a messy elote on the cob, slathered in equal parts mayo and cheese and some sort of chili spice. He wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to enjoy himself at the festival. Aiden hasn’t had many days where he could just be himself and enjoy himself. He hasn’t had many days where he felt like he could enjoy himself. Before he even got the job or motivation to want to do something, all AIden could do was drown in his own regrets from being discharged from the army.

But now, he was starting to feel like he mattered in society. He had a job he liked. He had friends (even if they were massive pains in his asses) and maybe…even had someone that he might…

As if it was divine intervention, Aiden looked over by the lemonade stand and all his times spent at the club, he’d recognize that ass anywhere. Even in jeans, he could spot it.

Ryan Reid. His delectable Candy.

Aiden couldn’t resist. But it also appeared that he was thirsty.

Dumping the rest of the funnel cake in the trash near him, Aiden stole the spot behind her in line and just said, with probably the most rizz he could muster up, “Feeling hot, are we?”

Pines Holler [Not Accepting]

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______________________________________	______________________________________________________________________________________ ⭐ LOCATION ⭐ Vega Residence ⭐ OUTFIT ⭐comfy casual ⭐ INTERACTING WITH ⭐ Her grandparents and sister (NPCs) ______________________________________________________________________________________

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“Mija, for the last time, we’ll be fine. We have electricity!” Alejandro insisted, giving his granddaughter a firm, yet gentle smile.

Alejandro Vega was a lot of things. Stubborn? Absolutely. Adamant? Almost every time you tried to change his mind, but he was also gentle when he could be. The scare of the blackout was a lot worse than he would ever be willing to admit to anyone, but Stella was able to pry it out of him. Things got scary for him and he felt in his lungs. Even with the checkup that Ellie made in the afternoon and throughout those three days, Stella found out from him and him alone that he was worried.

But he never let his wife know. Stella promised to keep it between them, but it was during that day that she and her abuelo had a heart-to-heart. She admitted her stress and expressed it was not because of him and his fall or abuela’s failing health. She put too much on herself and knew she had to rely on not just Luna but Sylvester and them as well.

Fast-forward four days and that’s how the current situation came to be. Ellie, earlier in the day, promised they were doing fine. Their vitals were strong and with everything seemingly fine with the power grid and the electricity flowing through the residents of Pines consistently, she didn’t have to worry about it going out when she went out. It was Luna’s idea for Stella to take an evening for herself and with the festival happening, what better way than for Stella to enjoy time out with Luna.

That’s when the worry about Alejandro and Soledad came into conversation.

“Mija…” Soledad’s soothing voice spoke this time, looking at Stella with a smile, “We are going to be okay. You already made us dinner and Dr. Ellie said she is just a phone call away. If something happens, we’ll call her and she’ll call you.” Her face went from gentle to almost as adamant as her husband. “Now I’m saying this cause I love you, Pero si no sacas el culo de aquí, voy a pedir Taco Bell justo a través de la puerta.”

The way that Stella gasped was almost comedic if it wasn’t fueled by the absolute terror of fake, plastic Americanized mexican food. “Abuela, you wouldn’t…”

The face Soledad made was practically daring Stella to refuse.

In the end (and fifteen minutes later), Stella came down from upstairs, dressed for the late evening heat in a bohochic playsuit, showing off just a little of her cleavage and wearing black ankle boots. She also, for good measure, had a simple tan cowgirl hat on top of her dark locks. It was, after all, the south and this town of hers, for all that she despised about it, was proud of that and she figured she would at least dress the part.

Luna, on the other hand, went with causal jeans and a blue midriff. She had a black cowgirl hat.

Both were dressed for the event and in whatever way they would, they’d at least try and enjoy the evening.

They said their goodbyes and when the door closed and they were both in Stella’s Dodge Durango, the engine wasn’t started yet and Stella just stared at the garage door. She was still debating whether this was a good idea or not. She was still wondering if it was right to leave. Stella broke down last week and even though that had lifted a lot of weight off her tired shoulders and then having that honest talk with Alejandro, she still felt wrong for enjoying herself.

“Hey..” Luna’s hand was on Stella’s shoulder and the older Vega sister looked over, biting the inside of her lip like she was trying not to break down again. “They’re going to be okay for a few hours. You’re allowed to enjoy yourself--” Luna stopped mid-sentence and reaffirmed her tone, “We’re allowed to enjoy ourselves. Just because they need our help doesn’t mean we can’t be allowed to take breaks. They’re old but not dead.”

Stella hated that Luna had to remind her of that. Weakened but not useless. Not there yet, she always told herself. Not there yet.

Something about that grim, realist, honest reminder shook the last bit of guilt out of her.

As the engine revved and Stella pulled out of the driveway, Luna smiled. “And I don’t know about you but I plan on at least getting 3 big ass teddy bears that I can sell on Ebay as collector items. Big City folk will go for anything if you slap rustic to it.”

Stella shook her head but couldn’t deny it. She lived as a “big city folk” for close to three years and, as bad as it was, Luna was right. They went crazy for the idea of a small town. If she had her choice, though, she wouldn’t ever wish the daily life of it on any of them.

That was a thought Stella would keep buried deep and drove in the direction of the festival.

RP Rules & Preferences - What do we look for nowadays?

It's no big surprise that the role-playing scene has shifted drastically in the last few years. People have more real life responsibilities, AI can make finding a face-claim difficult, etc.

The purpose of this thread is honestly just to gather feedback from the RPG community on what rules and guidelines people like to see when they consider joining a roleplay now.

For example - do we prefer posting deadlines? Do we still prefer real life faceclaims? How many characters do we enjoy handling per RP? What genres are more popular now? As GMs, how are we going about making sure writers stay interested and engaged without coming across as overbearing or annoying?

I just want to hear what makes you interested in a Roleplay (outside of engaging plots) and what makes you go "oh, nuh-uh"?

@Sugar and Spite

I don't have much to add that hasn't already been mentioned/addressed/responded to, but one thing I will say that usually tells me a lot about a person both in the moment and in future consideration in roleplays is how do they conduct themselves after getting rejected? Playing the victim card seldom does you any favors. If you were rejected from a roleplay, it was probably for good reasons. Moaning about it won't help your case. Sometimes there was a reason or maybe that reason was simply because you weren't a good fit for said roleplay.

This isn't directed at anyone specific but if you feel it is, then maybe it does apply to you.

My point being is GMs have final say. Now whatever that say takes the shape of is entirely in their hands. I've been around the block way too many times to see friend groups torn apart because of situations like these. I've seen people get butthurt because they weren't given a satisfactory answer for why they were rejected. Drama began, shit stirred, etc etc.

My opinion about deadlines and face claims won't come as any surprise. I love em. Deadlines help keep people motivated (or at least reminded that they don't have long to get their shit done). Face Claims come down to a personal preference. Some people love them (me) and some don't (apparently Mole). And yes, sometimes they are purely for aesthetic purposes but I don't think that's a bad idea, now is it? We love pretty things and in certain genre of roleplays, pretty people will be a main focus and I think that's okay.

As for the gm thing, I will stand firm on my earlier statement that GMs should always have the final say. If some players don't like it, well not to be too blunt, but they can eat rocks. Sure, being collaborative is important and should always be the priority but at the end of the day, gms are the ones making the rp, they're the ones driving the story forward. They should, of course, take the players who join and invest into consideration (their characters, arcs for characters, ideas they might have), but unless it's sandbox or sandbox-lite, the GMs having the final say is ultimately what will decide what scenes get established where. And sometimes, there's a big disrespect for that, as well as a general lack of respect for the deadlines that a gm will put forth.

Waiting until the last minute without any sort of communication is not fonz cool, my dude.

Anyway, that's a lot more that i thought i would say but that's my two cents.

PS: Great thread. Hope it keeps being productive.

Pines Holler [Not Accepting]

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______________________________________	______________________________________________________________________________________ 💊 LOCATION: ⭐ Ellie's Practice ⭐ INTERACTING WITH: 💊 Each other @Apoalo ______________________________________________________________________________________

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The bell over the door hadn’t even finished ringing before Ellie glanced up, already shifting her attention from the open chart in front of her to the person walking in. Focus redirected.

“Morning, Stella.”

Her tone was steady, familiar without overstepping. She set her pen down neatly, closing the file with a soft tap like she was putting a bookmark in the moment rather than ending it. There was a faint sheen of heat in the room despite the generator humming in the background, but the clinic was holding together, for now.

“I wouldn’t count on it staying quiet,” she added, a small glance toward the front windows where the light was already turning harsh. “Power outages tend to… encourage people to remember appointments.”

There was the faintest hint of dry humor in it, gone almost as quickly as it appeared.

Ellie stepped around the desk, already reaching for a clipboard. Her eyes moved over Stella in that quick, practiced way, nothing invasive, just taking stock. Stress. Heat. A little tension in the shoulders.

“You’re right on time,” she said. “And honestly? Today’s better than tomorrow if the power doesn’t come back soon.”

She gestured lightly toward the back.

“Generator’s running, but I’m rationing it. Refrigeration and essentials first. Prescriptions are still moving, though, it just might take me a minute longer than usual.”

A pause, then softer, more personal:

“How are your grandparents holding up in the heat?”

It wasn’t idle conversation. It never was with her.

Ellie moved behind the counter, already pulling up Stella’s information, but she didn’t rush her. She gave people space to speak if they needed it, never forcing it, never ignoring it either.

“If you need extra today,” she added, eyes flicking back briefly, “meds, supplies, even just somewhere cooler for a bit, say it. We’ll make it work.”

Stella chewed on that offer for a moment. If worse came to worse, she might have to, but knowing her grandparents, they’d fight against it. Say that there were people who probably needed it more. Stella knew how to wear them down. And if need be, she could get Luna to make puppy dog eyes at them and they’ll comply. One way or another. “I think we’re good on the meds front. With what was left over from last month’s prescription and the one today, I think they’ll be okay.” She paused only briefly to think about the other part of that offer, “But if today gets any worse, we might have to take you up on that offer,” she admitted with a sigh. She knew that would be an uphill battle but that’s why she was back. That’s why she’s been back for three years now. She had to take care of them because they were too damn stubborn to do it themselves and she couldn’t put that on Luna.

“But they’re doing okay. Stubborn as they’ve always been. They forced me to take a break and that’s why I’m here.” Stella’s voice always was like she had one foot out. She tried to keep on a brave face for her grandparents, for her sister, for those who knew her but sometimes that mask slipped and the eternal exhaustion and stress that she felt crept up. She quickly regained that lost facade. “Glad I was the first one to show up then.” she made a noise reminiscent of a chuckle. “And that they’re so adamant about others taking care of themselves. Didn’t take much to fight them on sending me out for a break.”

Ellie listened without interrupting, hands moving with quiet efficiency as she pulled the prescriptions and checked them against the files. She didn’t rush the silence either, she let it sit just long enough for what wasn’t being said to settle into the room alongside what was.

“Stubborn’s consistent,” she said lightly. “I’ll take that over declining and pretending otherwise.”

There was a faint curve at the corner of her mouth, but her attention stayed sharp. She counted out the medication, labeled each bottle with practiced precision, then set them aside within easy reach instead of sliding them across immediately.

“You did the right thing coming in today,” she added. “Overlap matters with prescriptions like these, especially if we’re looking at a few days of… improvisation.”

The word was chosen carefully. Not alarmist. Not dismissive.

At Stella’s explanation, Ellie’s gaze lifted again, settling on her a little more directly this time. Not clinical, just present.

“They didn’t force you,” she said, not unkindly. “They reminded you you’re allowed to step away for a minute.”

A beat.

“That’s not the same thing.”

She rested a hand lightly on the counter, grounding the moment rather than pushing it forward.

She finally slid the prescriptions across the counter.

“This should cover them,” she said, back to practical. “If the heat spikes or the power stays out longer than expected, watch for confusion, dizziness, anything off baseline. Don’t wait it out if something feels wrong.”

A pause, then a little quieter:

“And if they won’t agree to come in, you call me anyway. I’ll make a house visit before I let it turn into something avoidable.”

There was no bravado in it. Just certainty.

Ellie straightened slightly, reaching for her coffee but not quite taking a sip yet.

“You being the first one in isn’t luck,” she added. “It means you’re paying attention.”

A subtle tilt of her head, almost an invitation, but not a push.

“How bad is it at the house, really?”

“I wish I had your optimism,” Stella muttered with the faintest hint of a chuckle. She really didn’t have Ellie’s outlook. Every day she was stressed. Every day there was another issue that needed fixing. Every day she could feel the tug of her life in New York tempt her and every day she compartmentalizes family over freedom.

Not all days were bad. Not every day felt like a prison she could see the exit for but can’t ever leave. Most days are actually quite pleasant because of her tio Sylvester and her sister helping out. It’s just on days like yesterday where her grandparents not only had a bad day physically and mentally, but the stress they were under and how they lashed out on her affected her and that’s why she didn’t feel much hope or reason to see it half full. She only saw this as half empty, just as she felt inside.

“The house is doing fine as far as condition. Not sure how hot it’s supposed to be but I remember seeing triple digits last night on my weather app.” Stella admitted with a sigh. It was a deep sigh and she hoped it wouldn’t come to that. “If you want to come out, I won’t stop you. They might but they know not to argue with their doctor.” Now that was enough to make her actually smile. “When I left, the house was okay. Enough of internal cool air to keep them somewhat comfortable at least until the late morning hours.” There was an underlying, grim tone to Stella’s voice. Like she understood what was gonna happen and it scared her, though she tried her best to not show it.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a few tens. “How much?” She asked, nodding her head towards the row of pill bottles. “I’ve got like…50 and some change on me in cash. I can probably do more with my card.”

Ellie caught the shift in Stella’s tone more than the words themselves, the weight under it, the quiet math already running ahead to worst-case scenarios. She didn’t interrupt. She let Stella finish, let the sigh settle into the room like heat.

“Triple digits sounds about right,” she said calmly. “And houses like yours, like ours hold onto cool air… Until they don’t.”

At the mention of the offered visit, Ellie gave a small nod, already filing into place. “I’ll come by this afternoon if the power’s still out. Earlier if I get a gap.” A beat. “They can argue all they want. They don’t get to win that one.”

There was a faint trace of something dry in it, but it didn’t linger. Her attention shifted as Stella pulled out the cash.

Ellie didn’t even look at it right away.

Instead, she reached forward and slid the bottles a little closer to Stella, anchoring them within her reach like that part of the conversation was already settled.

“Put that away,” she said, not sharp, just firm. Her eyes met Stella’s then, steady and unambiguous. “You’ve got enough to manage right now.” Another brief pause, then softer, but no less certain. “I’ll log it ok? We’ll square it later, or we don’t. That’s not the priority today.”

She took a sip of her coffee finally, savoring the taste and then sets the cup back down. “What is the priority,” her tone shifting back to practical like she had a habit of doing, “is keeping them cool as long as possible. Close off unused rooms, keep blinds down, and if you’ve got ice then use it. Bowls of it in front of fans, even if it’s just moving warm air around, it helps more than you’d think.”

Her gaze flicked towards the door, toward the already brightening street beyond. “And don’t wait until it’s unbearable.,” she added. “By the time it feels urgent, you’re already behind it.” Then she speaks a little quieter. “You don’t have to carry all of it yourself, Stella.”

Not a lecture or pity, just something placed gently between them.

There was hesitation on Stella’s end about not paying but she smiled at Ellie and put her wallet back into her pocket. This was a true thing that the doctor said: Stella could actually use that for better means. Whatever might happen in the next couple of days, she could use that money. Even if she did feel bad it was for free, even she knew when to accept defeat. “Well if you insist,” she remarked.

Stella just listened to Elie. Absorbed her words. She rarely let herself believe she didn’t have to take it all by herself. In the back of her mind, there was always a voice in her head that told her she needed to shoulder this burden. Sylvester was there, of course. So was Luna but Tio had his own issues to deal with. A daughter. Luna had her life and she was just starting to figure herself out. Stella was the oldest of the two of them and the one who needed to be strong for everyone. She was the one who needed to be their anchor. She needed to be the force that could handle her grandparents’ stubbornness and that adamant way they had of trying to refuse extra help. She had to be strong for all of them.

And yet…

In this moment that would last as long as Stella remained in her practice, there was a moment where Stella’s walls just…fell. No mask of strength. No constant pushback of her emotions. Stella, in a moment that her hands touched the top of the bottles and had grazed Ellie’s hand, she broke.

A waterfall of sobs escaped her eyes, from her mouth. Her voice was cracking as the dam broke. Every ounce of stress that she felt these past few years, the stress of what was gonna come later. Every ounce of forced fortitude that had to maintain despite everything in her wanting to crawl into bed and never get out. EVery thought that she had of her old life…it all came to the surface and Stella buried her head into the gracious hand of Ellie, into her hand that was on top of it. She just couldn’t maintain it anymore.

Ellie didn’t flinch when Stella broke.

There was no surprise in her expression, no rush to fix it, no instinct to fill the space with words that would only skim the surface of something this deep. She simply shifted, one step closer, one hand steadying against the counter, the other turning just enough so Stella’s grip had something solid to hold onto.

“Hey,” she said quietly, not to stop it, just to meet her where she was.

She let the sobs come. Let them take up space in the room without apology. The generator hummed low in the background, steady and indifferent, while the rest of Pines Holler carried on outside, unaware. Inside, Ellie stayed exactly where she was.
Her thumb moved once, absentminded and grounding, brushing lightly against the side of Stella’s hand. Not a gesture meant to comfort in a performative way, just presence. Just there.

“You don’t have to hold it together in here,” she murmured after a moment, voice low and even. “Not for me.”

She shifted again, just enough to ease the angle so Stella wasn’t half-leaning over the counter anymore. Her free hand came up, resting gently, but firmly, against Stella’s upper arm, anchoring her without pulling her away.

“Breathe,” Ellie added softly. “Not deep. Just… don’t stop.”

No rush. No pressure to ‘calm down.’ Just a quiet instruction to keep going, to not disappear into it.

She let the silence stretch between the waves of emotion, only speaking when it felt necessary.

“This doesn’t make you weak,” she said after a while, tone unchanged, grounded. “It means you waited too long to let it out.”

A pause.

“You’ve been carrying more than one person should for a long time,” she continued. “That doesn’t just… stay contained because you decide it should.”

Her hand remained steady, never tightening, never withdrawing.

“Right now, you just get to not hold it all up for a minute.”

And so she did. Stella breathed. She let herself feel everything she had been holding in for the past three years. The shock of her grandparents being hurt, the pain of returning to a place that brought her so many terrible memories. The terror in her of doing something wrong when she first took on all of the responsibility. The sheer amount of responsibilities she would have placed on her shoulders. The help from Sylvester and Luna was fine but she still had all the burden. She let herself release the self-torment she put herself under.

Every ounce of stress left her body in wailing sobs, sobs that probably would draw attention if she and Ellie had company in the building (thankfully there weren’t). She let herself feel all of that and by the time five minutes came, all of which was aided by the soothing, comforting touch of Ellie’s hand on hers, patting her, telling her it was okay. Stella wasn’t sure how much of that she actually believed but she didn’t fight it anymore.

It took three additional minutes for her to regain her ability to speak without the voice cracking of her lingering emotions causing her to almost choke on her own words. When she was finally able to get full control, he took in one last, deep, calming breath. “I..thank you.” was all Stella could manage to get out. In her mind, she didn’t know what to say. Saying sorry sounded like it would only incur the subtle ‘no no none of that’ from The Good Doctor, so an expression of gratitude was all she felt would sum up what she was feeling after the fact.

Stella grabbed the pill bottles, put them into her purse. She didn’t say anything but she looked at Ellie. “And I’m not just talking about what just happened but for…just everything.” Stella gave the doctor a smile, thinking about the day she had to look forward to. Maybe it was good that she emptied all of the stress now before she got home. In a way, she felt a lot more free. There was a weight lifted off of her shoulders. “I’ll be sure to tell my abuelo and abuela they can expect you this afternoon.” She let out a laugh, almost wanting to see how exactly that will go when she comes over.

Ellie didn’t move away right after the storm passed.

She gave Stella those extra few seconds, the quiet after, where everything felt a little too still, a little too exposed. Her hand eased, but didn’t leave entirely, grounding until Stella had both feet back under her again.

When Stella finally spoke, Ellie’s expression didn’t shift much. Just a small, almost imperceptible nod, like she was accepting something simple and expected.

“You don’t owe me thanks for that,” she said gently. “But I hear it.”

There was no deflection, no dismissal, just acknowledgment.

Her hand slipped away then, giving Stella her space back without making it feel like something had ended. Ellie reached for a box of tissues nearby, setting it within easy reach rather than handing it over directly.

“Most people apologize,” she added, a faint trace of dry warmth in her voice. “So you’re already ahead of the curve.”

Her eyes lingered on Stella for a moment longer not assessing now, just making sure she was steady.

At the mention of her grandparents, Ellie let out a quiet breath through her nose, something just shy of a smile following.

“I’ll brace myself,” she said. “Stubborn usually travels in pairs.”

Then, a little more serious again:

“I mean it, Stella. If the heat climbs or something feels off, you call before it becomes a problem. I’d rather show up early than late.”

She moved back behind the counter, but her attention didn’t leave.

“And for what it’s worth,” she added, almost as an afterthought, though it wasn’t, “what you’re doing? It matters. Even on the days it doesn’t feel like it’s enough.”

Not praise. Not comfort.

Just something solid to take with her.

Ellie picked her coffee back up, finally taking a proper sip this time, eyes drifting briefly toward the brightening street outside before returning to Stella.

“I’ll see you this afternoon.”

Pines Holler [Not Accepting]

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______________________________________	______________________________________________________________________________________ 🦋 LOCATION 🌳 Huskers ⚠️ INTERACTING WITH 💀 Dallas @Moon Child, Clive, Valen @Kaiidth, Aiden ______________________________________________________________________________________

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There was a moment in time in which the wide-eyed, awestruck Dallas simply stared at the man in front of her, unable to get her brain to formulate a singular sentence besides ‘ohmygod’ on repeat. She had seen Clive up close plenty of times before at work, but never this close, and never dressed like this. The massive biceps adorned with tattoos, the way his broad chest and shoulders stretched the fabric of his white undershirt, the messy blond hair and rugged beard, the thick-as-tree-trunks thighs and legs in his blue jeans…

Then he smiled at her, and Dallas suddenly forgot how to breathe.

God, what a beautiful man…

“Dare I ask what or who you’re trying to hide from?”

The young woman blinked a few times, startled away from her daydreams. “Nobody,” came her quick answer, much too impulsive to be taken seriously. Realizing her response would fool absolutely nobody, Dallas took a deep breath and decided to be honest. “My ex-boyfriend, actually,” she admitted, rolling her eyes as she sat up straight. The blonde knew that this move would put her at risk of being within eyesight of the person she wanted to avoid, but she hoped that by positioning herself directly in front of Clive she would be obscured from view by his massive frame. “He’s over talking to Liz right now, but I didn’t want him to see me and come talk to me or whatever.”

Clive smiled more. He could tell there was something going on in that mind of hers but he thought it was best for both of their sakes (more hers than his) to not voice that out loud, but the ex-con did find himself curious about something. It was the answer to his question. An ex-boyfriend that she was avoiding and the mention of Liz piqued his interest. Clive knew Liz Fulton, she was an old friend of his… Well, acquaintance was probably a better word for it. They went to Pines Holler High together. If Clive was remembering correctly, she was a couple years younger than him but he still knew her. Small town and everything.

So he let the cat inside him lose a life because he was curious. And as soon as he turned his head and glanced towards the bar, he found himself feeling something he wasn’t truly expecting. The face, the name, the pompous way he carried himself. He had enough cellies to know who that was just based off of the description.

Valentino Lockwood.

It’s true, Clive had no actual reason to dislike the man. The cop who put him away and who handled his arrest wasn’t the one at the bar, but people talked. There wasn’t much to do in prison and there were a handful of cellmates that Clive had who were collared by Officer Valentino Lockwood. He was someone that a lot had a problem with. It wasn’t just that he was the cop who locked them away but he was an asshole. He had no proof but he probably would be the type of cop who would take it too far and use too much force during an arrest.

Clive didn’t know the man. He never spoke a single word to him, but the stories and seeing how he clearly had an effect on Dallas, that was more than enough for him to make an informed opinion about the cop.

“Yikes…” Clive spoke aloud, unaware that he had done so until it was too late and he heard Dallas giggle. Sometime between looking over and speaking, the ex-con made himself comfortable in the booth. Realizing that he wasn’t alone (it was a momentary, absentminded thing), Clive cleared his throat. “What I mean is…” He looked away awkwardly, found his resolve, and clarified, “I’ve heard stories about that man. Valentino Lockwood. A few cellmates I’ve had were arrested by him. They said he was an asshole and these were good men who were just at the wrong place and at the wrong time. So…well, I don’t blame you for not wanting to see him. But uh…” His attention was solely on Dallas now and he was even imitating her crouching method, though nowhere nearly as effective given the difference in their size, “what on earth possessed you to get involved with a prick like that? I get he is…appealing to the female gaze, if one were to be really drunk; but someone like you, who is pretty, charming, and a delight to be around, you can do a lot better than the man that probably puts the A in ACAB.”

It took all of Dallas’ self-control to not squeal in delight at Clive’s compliments, and to instead settle for a beaming smile and a coy shrug of the shoulders. Knowing that he thought she was pretty, charming and a delight to be around was a win in her books. Now if only she could make that translate to ‘this is the girl I’m in love with, that I want to marry and have a bunch of kids with’...

Focus, Dallas! Focus!

The young woman pulled herself away from her thoughts just in time to answer the man’s question before any awkward silences had time to settle. “He was hot, he seemed lonely, and I wanted to make him smile,” she told Clive, feeling her cheeks flush at her childish, naive admission. Knowing now what she didn’t then, it all sounded so stupid and silly. “He’d been eating at the diner alone for years, so I figured he could use the company. Sounds lame, I know, but it’s the God-honest truth. I like taking care of people, and I felt like he needed someone to be there for him. And I was right. It was just…” she trailed off, trying to find the best way to put her experience into words without digging into the specifics. “Let’s just say I wasn’t really equipped to deal with what he brought to the table, or to care for him in the ways he needed to be. It didn’t really end well, either, so I’ve been trying to avoid him ever since.”

Clive hesitated with what to say. He could tell just by the way she spoke and how fondly and maybe even regretfully she spoke about Val that there were some regrets there. Clive could only assume but there was a moment in between her words that she also hesitated. And that bit about not being able to handle his baggage? Something was there. Something bad or at least not good enough for them to still be together. He was curious about that but Clive made a mental note to look into that later. For now, he would focus on the blonde sitting across from him, being as honest as he suspected she always was like.

“First off, never blame yourself for being compassionate. You’re caring along with being pretty and charming. Those are all green lights in my opinion.” Clive did mean that. She seemed like someone who was willing to carry on the weight of others if it meant for their happiness but she is also someone, much like many he’d known in his lifetime, who never takes the time to appreciate themselves. “And about that second part…you aren’t to blame for whatever happened. If he had baggage that was too much, then that’s not on you. It’s his fault for keeping that with him while he was with you. Something I’ve learned long ago was not to blame myself for what was out of control. A good friend taught me that. He also said that if anyone hurts me, he would beat the ever living crap out of them.” Thinking of Kent, Clive let out a low chuckle. “And let’s just say I took those words almost too closely to heart.” An even more noticeable laugh escaped his lips. Not too loud that it would warrant looks their way but enough for there to be a noticeable mood change in Clive, going from somber and somewhat angry to a lighter one.

While hearing Clive’s laughter and additional compliments make her smile, Dal couldn’t help but ponder over his words. As much as she wanted to believe that she wasn’t at fault for the demise of Valentino’s and her relationship, it was difficult to do so. “I hear what you’re saying. And I’m not saying it’s wrong. It’s just hard not to drown myself in thinking that I could’ve done more, you know? Maybe if I hadn’t pushed too hard, or given him more space, or fought for things a little harder, maybe he would’ve changed for the better…” she trailed off again, letting out a deep, defeated sigh before ultimately shaking her head and shifting her eyes to meet Clive’s. It was time for this depressing topic to end. She couldn’t let the ghost of Val and their ill-fated relationship haunt her and her love life forever. “It doesn’t matter anyway, though. The relationship is over and done with. There’s definitely no going back now, and I’m ready for bigger and better things,” the blonde declared with a smirk and a wink.

He cracked a smile. She was an interesting one, that’s for sure. Dallas has this mature understanding of knowing when to accept things.That’s a wisdom that took him almost ten years her senior (he was estimating) to figure out but that was just before he took the rap for Kent. Before he made a selfless decision for the sake of his friend. His friend that was now gone. He tried not to linger on that. It did him no good to dwell on what he couldn’t change.

The good book spoke a lot about moving on. “Forget the former things, do not dwell on the past,” he muttered out of habit and smiled. That didn’t just apply to Dallas but to his pain as well. To his mistakes and to what he couldn’t let go. “That’s from Isaiah 43:18. I thought it would be helpful.” Clive needed to figure a way to more organically bring up the scripture into conversation instead of just blurting it out. “I know a thing or two about past mistakes and not knowing how to move on, but we’re both trying.” He took a deep breath. Even if it was vague, this was probably the first time he was talking about Kent outside of anyone in the Fallen Angels’ family. “But yes, like you said..onto bigger and better things, or in my case…kinder and better company.” Clive was never the type to be subtle when flirting but it would be rude of him to not at least match her energy. So he gave her a smile.

While her first instinct was to beam up at Clive for his additional compliments, she couldn’t help but point out his casual use of scripture in their conversation. “Pastor Matthew and Pastor Shaw better watch their backs. You're coming to take their spot!” Dallas joked with a chuckle before adding, “You know, I think you’d make a really good youth pastor, now that I think of it. Or a good speaker, at the least. I don’t know your whole story and I’m not claiming to know you very well. But from what little I’ve seen, I can tell you’re really trying your best to turn a new leaf and stay on the right path– however that path looks for you. I think people around here could use a story of hope and redemption like that.”

“Oh no--” Clive felt the uncontrollable, unintended burst of laughter come out before he even realized it. It interrupted what he was going to say and he started to cough at the mere idea of what Dallas was suggesting. His fist pounded on his chest a bit, hoping to both help him breathe a bit and to draw less attention to himself. “Sorry, that just…I don’t think I’d make a good pastor. I can’t stand public speaking. I’m just, uh..” Clive uncharacteristically didn’t have any other words. It was like they were being ripped out of him. This time it wasn’t laughter but a feeling he hasn’t felt in a while.

Hope.

He had been forced to believe it for the sake of others but hearing another say it to him somehow hit a bit different. All he managed to say was “thank you” because what could he say? He’s met many people who were probably twice Dallas’ age who didn’t possess nearly half the wisdom she did. Looks were very deceiving it seems. “It’s all I can do is to try and do better. Some people might not think that’s possible.” His gaze went to the seething glare he could feel in the back of his head. Valen surely thought little of him, based off of the glances he saw the cop show him. Clive tried to not let it bother him. He had no actual valid reason to hate the man other than what he made Dallas feel but he didn’t get the vibe he was a good man at all.

The young woman followed Clive’s gaze over his shoulder, and felt her anger levels rising when she caught sight of Valentino and the way he was glaring at her companion. Who was he to look at Clive the way he was, acting as if he was holier than thou or better than him?! As if his stupid badge gave him any authority to decide who was or wasn't “good”. The only reason he still had a career and hadn’t been charged and in jail himself was because she didn’t choose to go that route after the incident happened. Fuelled by her displeasure, Dal reached out for the Clive’s hand with both of her own to call his attention, locked her eyes with his and intensely declared: “Fuck what they think.”

Clive paused for a moment, surprised from the sudden declaration. Here he was, in a moment of his own weakness, feeling sorry for himself or letting the presence of a set of eyes glaring at him get to him and then Dallas just…wipes that all away with a few simple words. Fuck what they think. The older man chuckled at that, smiling a wide grin. “Yeah. Fuck what they think!” He echoed her.

For a few moments, Clive let that moment linger but then he caught the shadow of blue out of the corner of his eye. Even before it would speak, his mood immediately changed. The vigor in his eyes changed, his mannerisms got tense but then he heard a different voice. Not Valen’s but something younger. Brasher.

“You fucking kidding me?” The younger blue said, eyes directed at Dallas. “Save me, Aiden. Save me! You texted me that, remember numnuts? But…” Aiden turned his frozen crystal-colored eyes on Clive. “So you’re Clive, huh? The man from the Diner my idiot bestie just can’t shut up about.”

“Aiden!” Dallas hissed, feeling her cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. Why in the world would he say something like that?! Clive didn’t need to know that she was that obviously into him!

Clive arched an eyebrow at Aiden. “I suppose that I am. And you’re Aiden Quinn.” Clive knew the name. Ricky was an old friend of the MC. Former member like Clive was. He left to do right by his now ex-wife and two sons. Two sons. Hunter and…well that’s interesting, now isn’t it? Clive never expected an ex-outlaw’s son to become a cop. How funny life’s coincidences seem to show up in his life one after another. “So…how do you know Dallas?”

“Oh…oh now that is indeed a story. Maybe I should join you two–”

“I don’t think that’s a good–”

Before Dallas or the young Quinn could finish, Clive felt a vibration on his phone. Pulling it out, he immediately frowned. The firehouse was calling. His…break was over. There was a fire on the other side of town and he had to show up at the firehouse. Usually his part-time gig was a bit more lenient, but given the state of the town right now, with the power being out, there was only so much leniency that could be allowed. Even part-time firefighters like himself were being called in. Any and all help to cover the fires starting to gather around town and in the surrounding areas.

“Unfortunately, I’ll have to hear the story another day,” Clive said with a deep sigh. He looked at Aiden one last time and smiled at the officer. Then he went to Dallas, who he had to imagine was feeling some kind of way about all of this. “Sorry our conversation couldn’t finish.” He reached into his pants pocket to pull out a pen, reached for a napkin in front of him, scribbled on it and placed it into her open palm on the table. “I normally don’t do this, but here. Call me when things are less…crowded.” He made a note of the two cops in the place. “Maybe…we can finish up our talk. Or…something.” He left that linger in the air and he himself lingered for a moment.

Although she tried, there was no downplaying the sheer delight and excitement in Dal's face at Clive's words and his parting gift. “Yeah, sure! I'd love that!” she was quick to reply, that same beaming smile from before back on her face. There was no way he was ‘just being nice’ now, was there? If he was giving her his number, that meant he was into her… right? She sure damn hoped so. “I’ll text you before I call just to make sure you’re not busy at work, though. Would that be okay with you?”

Clive thought about it for a moment and gave her a nod. “I can’t imagine any universe where a text from you wouldn’t be the first thing I do, even if I’m going through fire itself.” He said, giving her one last smile. “Stay safe, Dallas,” he offered as he left, leaving her with the cockblocking cop. If only he could be a fly on the wall to listen to that conversation, but unfortunately, his part-time work demanded his full-time attention.

“You too!” Dallas replied, offering the man a parting wave before he left the building.

Aiden had to restrain himself from physically gagging. His expression was contained but internally, he had the most “WTF is this crap” expression on his face. Between Dal being all giddy like she was still in high school and Clive was the captain of the football team to Clive just ignoring him and actually giving her his number, Aiden waited for the exact moment he saw Clive exit huskers before he took the spot the ex-con was in and made a mocking expression at Dallas, his voice going into a high octave as he said, “oh Clive, I’d sure love that! Oh clive, i’ll text you~’”

And then he just stone-faced looked at her, looking absolutely disgusted.

“Stop.” Dallas told her friend, looking away as her face grew hot again. To any third party watching this go down, the way Dallas’ face went from beaming excitement to annoyed and mortified in record time would’ve been comical. As soon as she saw Aiden make his arrival to where she and Clive were conversing, she’d been expecting this exact reaction– he loved to fluster her and push her buttons. Honestly? She would’ve done the exact thing to him if the roles were reversed, so she had to be able to take what she’d dish out. “Before you say anything, I didn’t know he was coming over to talk to me. He showed up after I texted you, and I didn’t want to be rude by pulling up my phone to text you again in the middle of the conversation. I would’ve given you a heads up if I had known.”

He kept that same expression and the glare that went with it for a few more, long seconds, but Aiden ultimately dropped it with a heavy sigh. “I was going to come here regardless if…my partner wasn’t deadset on coming here first. Your text made it seem like you were in need of dire saving, but instead of a cop, you found comfort in a pipeman.”

Aiden wasn’t mad, in all honesty. Even when he was mocking his friend, it was mostly in jest. He was worried for her, though. After her time with Officer Douche behind him, he was skeptical about her seeking the company of another older guy, regardless if it was intentional or not. Clive didn’t seem like a bad guy. He didn’t react when Aiden showed up in a way that made him seem like the ex-con was a bad guy. He heard the story: went to prison for attacking some guy. Rumor has it he took the fall for something someone else did, but Aiden didn’t care enough to verify those alleged facts.

Aiden rolled his shoulders one arm at a time, “Yeah, I know. You wouldn’t forget to text back your BEST FRIEND if it wasn’t for a good reason.” And then the other arm. His joints were unreasonably stiff. He couldn’t decide if Dallas was to blame or her ex. “It is a good reason, right?” He asked, his tone suddenly a bit more serious than what his current physical actions might suggest.

Dallas frowned at Aiden in confusion. “Yeeeeahhhhh… I mean, I think so,” she told her bestie. “We had a nice little conversation and you saw he gave me his number to talk to him later, so I’d say that’s a good reason.”

Your definition of good reason is different from mine. Aiden thought it best not to voice that thought. No reason to mock the barbie more than he already has. Even he had to agree, in some odd way, this did feel like a positive. He didn’t know Clive personally, so how could he not see this as a good thing because it clearly made Dal happy. “Well I hope, for your sake, it works out. He doesn’t seem like…he’s a bad guy. Even if he does look old enough to be your dad,” Aiden chuckled at that. Apparently after him she wanted the senior citizens.

Dallas rolled her eyes, but smiled at Aiden all the same. She could understand his worry about the situation and where it was coming from. And honestly, he hadn’t been the only one who’d expressed apprehension about her interest in the ex-con. After her tumultuous past with Valen, it was only natural that seeing her pining after another older guy was a cause for concern. But there was something about Clive that told her that she could trust him to be different from her ex– an openness and earnestness in his words, actions and eyes. All Dal could hope for was that, unlike before, that she was right about this one. She couldn’t bear the heartbreak that would follow if he wasn’t.

“Let’s talk about something else, though. How’s the first shift with Officer Grumpy treating you?” the girl joked. She knew Valen well enough to know the answer to her own question, but she was curious about whether her assumptions on how things were going were correct or not.

That was the moment Aiden glared only for her unsubtle topic change, but he scoffed at the mere thought of his so-called wise elder. “He’s really pissing me off. He decides to drive, which I’m not really mad at but he didn’t even say ‘hey i’ll drive cause this’ll be a teaching moment’.” Aiden said in that familiar mocking tone but he did it in a deeper way, trying to emulate Valentino and earning himself a giggle from Dallas. “But nope, he just told me to get in the passenger’s side like I’m some rookie--don’t you even dare!” Aiden stopped whatever Dal might’ve said. He knew she was gonna say something about him being a rookie. “OH AND THAT’S NOT EVEN THE WORST PART!”

With a dramatic pause and the realization he was speaking too loud, Aiden crouched his head and leaned in. “He keeps calling me Caden. I’m positive he’s doing it on purpose to piss me off.” And mission accomplished, Officer Douche!”

“Oh, I am absolutely sure he’s doing it on purpose,” Dallas mused, risking a quick glance over at her ex-boyfriend. “He was with me long enough and I talked about you enough times to remember your name by now. I bet he’s just being a dick about it just because you’re my best friend.” Or maybe he was so blasted during the times I mentioned Aiden that he truly never memorized his name… the girl suddenly thought, but decided not to say out loud. “Hopefully he gets over himself quickly, though. That grumpiness of his doesn’t serve anything positive to anyone.”

“Especially for me, the rookie who needs to learn from my oh wise superior.” Just as if he could sense he was being summoned, Aiden could feel it. Even before Valentino said anything. Even before he could hear his deep voice crawl its way up his spine and into his ears. Even before he could hear those footsteps approach, Aiden just knew. He knew and despite mentally preparing himself, he still couldn’t.

By the time Valen caught a fleeting glimpse of green over Liz’s shoulder, the young woman wasn’t sitting with the ex-con anymore. Not that her company had improved much; the rookie had taken his place. He left Liz with a parting nod and a smile he hoped looked relaxed before approaching the tucked-away booth. If nothing else, he supposed dragging the kid off was a better pretext to speak to Dallas than anything else. It was almost like a two-for-one.

Dallas sensed the change in Aiden immediately. She looked over his shoulder just in time to catch sight of the one person they were discussing marching over to them with a determined look on his face, like a man on a mission. “Shit...” the blonde muttered under her breath, feeling her body tense up in trepidation in anticipation of his arrival, just as it always did ever since his first outburst when they started living together. Guess that the body never forgets, even if forgiveness has been attempted.

When his casual footsteps paused behind Aiden, Valen lifted a curt eyebrow at what he’d thought he’d overheard—wise superior. The damn kid sure knew how to run his mouth. The smile he’d worn for Liz had vanished in the twenty seconds it took to reach the booth, his thumbs scraping past his hips to hook over his utility belt. “Nice to hear you’re smarter than you look, Caden,” he said dryly, his stony expression aimed at the back of the boy’s head before shifting to Dallas.

There was an awkward pause he wasn’t quick enough to mask before he added, “...Dal.” His voice strained with the effort to sound normal, even as he cleared his throat against the discomfort. She looked good—not that he could say as much in front of his newest pain in the ass. Then there was the pressing need to ask what the hell she was doing talking to a guy like Clive Evermore, but there was a time and a place for that—neither of which involved the boy-wonder-in-training.

“Hi Valen,” came Dallas's polite but curt reply, accompanied by a meek wave of the hand. She hoped the way she kept things outside of her normal cheerful, enthusiastic demeanor would help communicate to her ex that she was not interested in engaging in conversation with him– especially after purposely misnaming her best friend in front of her.

Valen caught the subdued note in her voice immediately—a hard contrast to her normally bright tone. It was one he had become more familiar with, but despite the sobering recognition, he was determined to get more than two words out of her.

He hadn't seen much of Dallas recently, though he’d conveniently neglected to consider that it might be intentional on her part. “How are you?” Fucking—great question. He cleared his throat, fighting to suppress the urge to burn a hole through the kid until he took the hint.

“We should talk—soon. It can be anywhere,” he offered. There was a rough edge to his voice, a silent admission that she might want a public place. He hated the way she tensed around him now—and that he was the cause for it.

Aiden could feel a sense of urgency rise up in him. The dislike for Val being replaced with the solemn duties of a best friend. There was no way Dallas was ready for this and sure as hell she wouldn’t be ready to answer that kind of question. If she wanted to answer, she should be given time to, not be forced to give any kind of reply in this very short window. “Uh…partner,” Aiden urged Val, hoping to get his superior’s attention, “we should probably get going, right? I mean, Huskers is probably all clear by now and we got to take a short break and everything.” Aiden knew he had to be subtle and, for him, this was subtle. As subtle as he could be without stepping on either sets of toes. He didn’t want to step on Dallas’ toes because he could only imagine how fragile she was because of this. And he didn’t want to step on Val’s toes because this was his partner and senior officer, so any negative attitude towards him would make Aiden’s day a lot more worse than it already is.

This was the internal compromise he made with himself. He hoped it was enough to bring Val back to Planet Cop.

It wasn’t the person Valen had been hoping would reply. The corner of his mouth twisted down as his gaze was pulled begrudgingly toward the rookie. His jaw flexed, but after one more fleeting glance at Dallas, he gave a brusque nod. When had they gotten this bad?

“Yeah… sure, kid—Aiden,” he answered, his voice uncharacteristically hollow. The silence from Dallas was worse than any beating he’d taken on the streets. Wordlessly, he retrieved the keys from his pocket and held them out for Aiden to take. “Just this once.” He wasn’t in the mood to drive, and he didn’t trust himself to stay level-headed if he did.

A burning wave of guilt washed over Dallas as she watched Valentino's crestfallen expression when she failed to address him. She was grateful that Aiden had intervened by changing the subject, because if he hadn't been present, the girl's lingering self-reproach for not being able to save her ex would've been stronger than her resolve to stay away from him, and she would've accepted his invitation even if she canceled later. Still, she felt it was rude to not say anything, so she did. “I hope you guys have a good rest of your shift,” she heard herself croaking, hoping that her well wishes or just the sound of her voice would be enough to make Val look less defeated than he did right now. “Stay safe out there.”

Valen couldn’t bring himself to meet Dallas’s eyes again at her forced performance, suspecting it was directed more toward her friend than the man she seemed to hate—even if her animosity was valid. He wouldn’t pretend to claim otherwise, but he’d been doing better; he hadn’t blacked out since that night, anyway.

He and Dallas had even had a handful of encounters since then—so what had changed? Was she worried they’d fall into bed again? He’d have to be blind not to see the way she looked at Evermore. Was there more going on there than a simple chance encounter? He had no clue, since he’d apparently forfeited the right to know about her life.

He ran a thumb over his bottom lip, wishing he’d had the foresight to get a glass of water for himself when he’d gotten one for Liz. He gave a choppy nod, grunting out a quiet, “Will do,” before stalking toward the exit—escaping Husker’s cool AC for an air that felt a lot less heavy.

Aiden felt a wave of relief pass through him. A crisis wasn’t averted but just postponed. What mattered, however, was that it had been postponed to where maybe, should Dallas want to, she would be in a better place to have that conversation that Val was so deadset on having in that moment.

He held the keys in his hand, almost wanting to ask if Val was sure but he thought against it and Val was already halfway to the exit by the time the thought crossed his mind. He didn’t seem to be in a talking mood and better Aiden just take it. His attention briefly went to Dallas. She was putting on a brave front and it would probably convince anyone else but Aiden knew her. “I’ll call you after my shift is over.” He thought about it for a moment as she nodded in understanding. “Or give Clive a call.” He wondered if this would make her perk up. And judging by the way the corners of her mouth turned upward at his suggestion, it did. “I’m not mocking this time, I swear. You need someone right now and if I can’t be around, then maybe someone who can make you smile and lift you up is the second best thing. Besides..” Before he would leave, Aiden said the following, “he doesn’t seem like a bad guy. He’ll be good for you.”

Pines Holler [Not Accepting]

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______________________________________	______________________________________________________________________________________ 🌳 LOCATION 🌳 His trailer → Huskers Dive Bar 🌳 OUTFIT 🌳 This + blue jeans 🌳 INTERACTING WITH 🌳 Dallas @Moon Child ______________________________________________________________________________________

^{______________________________________________________________________________________}

There was a lot that Clive Evermore didn’t like and waking up on this hot, summer morning was proving to put every single one of them in quick succession. He hated the heat. And yes, that is quite ironic considering his part time job includes sometimes running into burning buildings. The irony was not lost on him, but he hated the heat when he could help it. He hated the heat when he was at home and there was no relief from it.

That was another thing that he hated most of all. Power outages. He could think back to when he was in prison just a few months ago and it brought a chuckle to his quiet trailer, filling the sound with ironic laughter. Clive hated almost every aspect of that place, but there he had around-the-clock food, a schedule of when he could eat and go outside. But in the moments leading up to him actually deciding he had enough of the mental wallowing he was doing right now, there was some cool air providing relief.

But now? Now, he didn’t. Quite literally, he was laying in bed, mostly naked due to the sweat crawling all over his body, he had no relief from the heat. “A damn power outage,” he murmured in slight annoyance, the current circumstances making him consider committing a crime so that he could be free of this hell. But then he thought back to the conversation he and Molly had a couple months ago and how he promised to not only be there for her but to better himself. To not let this second chance at freedom slip through his fingers. To be the pillar she could lean on if she needed it and likewise.

The things Clive does for those he cares about.

So what else was the burly man to do? He got up. He took a luke-cold shower that, while it wasn’t the most pleasant experience, he managed to wash all the sweat off his body. That took him about ten minutes and another thirty and he was out the door, fed and dressed in a simple pair of blue jeans and white tanktop. Shorts were a rarity for him, so he did what he could to remain cool. He had a simple breakfast of some overnight oats with berries and peanuts that he fortunately had the wherewithal to stock up on this week before. They were filling enough but he might head to Huskers during his lunch to maybe get some protein if they were able to spare it. Clive ventured a guess that they would be pretty busy today.

Before heading to work, Clive decided to take advantage of the time. He was still an hour out before he had to report in for work…well, technically a part-time firefighter didn’t need to report in when those who worked full-time did, but he always liked to make himself available. In the meantime, he decided he would see if Huskers was still serving any kind of protein-rich food. A burger or wings or even eggs would give him the fuel he needed.

And when he drove up to the dive bar and when he pushed himself through the door, what met him was the sweet relief of cool air. And lights. He had known they had the only other generator in town. Few places had it. He knew Ellie had one, which made sense because she was the only doctor in town. He knew Ettie had one, but he was thankful for Huskers and that they invested in a backup generator if the worst case scenario happened. Judging from the company he was in, others were in that same mindset.

He saw a few familiar faces. Some of the younger Piners in town, some elderly seeking shelter and cool air. Some from his old class that Clive gave a short nod to. He wondered if they were tense around him. His reputation wasn’t necessarily bad, considering what he did when he was in the Black Dogs but it always seemed like ex-cons and town folk were at odds. A time old cliche that proved to be at least somewhat true. So he chose to keep his distance from those looking at him with judgemental eyes.

He thought maybe it was a mistake but he was here already, so Clive chose the road less traveled. Many people would face it headon, like the fires he ventured into some days when it was less miserable than this one. That was the road most traveled, but CLive didn’t feel particularly masochistic so early in the morning. So he walked away from the crowd, though he would give a wave even though it seemed she was deep in conversation with Liz, so he wouldn’t give it much thought if she didn’t see him. All the same, Clive retreated away from the bar, choosing to see which booths weren’t occupied.

And as he stumbled on the last one on the left, whether it was shear dumb luck or higher powers wanting to give him a break, a familiar face that he was more than happy to see, was sat in the booth. He couldn’t help but notice the way she was sitting too. “So, I guess I wasn’t the only one who chose to lay low.” He approached the booth but didn’t sit down yet. He just took a few extra moments to appreciate her. Even as he saw her crouching, he could tell she dressed up a bit more this morning. He smiled at her and took a seat. “Dare I ask what or who you’re trying to hide from?”

Pines Holler [Not Accepting]

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______________________________________	______________________________________________________________________________________ 🔥 LOCATION 🔥 Pine Holler Police Station 🔥 OUTFIT 🔥 See left 🔥 INTERACTING WITH 🔥 Valentino @Kaiidth ______________________________________________________________________________________

^{______________________________________________________________________________________}

Aiden stood there for a long few moments. It was only like a few seconds in real time, but in his head, it was an eternity. This was the guy that Dallas struggled to get over? It wasn’t a first impression because Aiden had run into him a few times and had heard things but what he saw was someone who was a bit of an asshole. Well, no not just a bit. He was an asshole. And that was just based off of the information he had based off of this short interaction and what he knew from what Dal told him.

But what was even worse, he couldn’t even bother to get Aiden’s name memorized. That annoyed him most of all.

“It’s Aiden,” he spat out in a mutter. If Officer Lockwood heard him, well he couldn’t care less.

But Aiden was a good soldier. Good soldiers follow orders, so he hopped into the passenger side, the door opening with a mechanical click and then he slammed it with a loud thud. He followed orders, so their captain can’t ever write him up for insubordination. But he knew that little action wasn’t gonna win him any brownie points with Valentino Lockwood.

Aiden wondered what it would be like out there. EVen as he sat down and put on his seatbelt, he wondered just how much of a madhouse it was going to be today. Power was out and with the rising tensions between the expansion of the town and those who were put out of a job, Aiden was only guessing here, but he figured there had to have been some people out there willing to risk anything to get some money in their pockets. Power outage meant people would be vulnerable. It hurt his heart that people in Pines would do that but he also understood what desperate times made people do.

He prayed it never came to that.

Refocusing, Aiden took it upon himself to get the computer up and running, checking to see if any alerts came in. Thankfully, nothing has. In his mind, he didn’t want to voice his relief because he knew as soon as he did, that would curse their shift. So, instead, he looked at Valen. “Ready when you are…partner.” That last word was said with more venom than the entire island of Snake Island off the coast of Brazil.

Pines Holler [Not Accepting]

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______________________________________	______________________________________________________________________________________ ⭐ LOCATION ⭐ 143 Miner Street → Main Street → Caldwell Family Practice ⭐ OUTFIT ⭐comfy casual ⭐ INTERACTING WITH ⭐ Her grandparents (NPCs), The Good Doctor @Apoalo; mentioned: Silvester @Pumpkin Jackdaw ______________________________________________________________________________________

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Estrella Vega was constantly reminded of reasons why she preferred the comfort of New York. Of course, the summer heat up there might’ve not been so different than it was in the south but she rarely encountered the frequent amount of blackouts as she did in the comfort of her apartment in Manhattan. There were other reasons for it but she held such bitter feelings for Pines. Did she try and focus on what she could control with those feelings? Of course she did. She always had to keep control because people were counting on her.

But those moments of control seemed to go out of the window when the blackout hit. Stella wasn’t certain if she was happy that it happened when it was still morning or if that was just another omen that would spell disaster for the day.

There was a part of Stella that wondered what the cause for the blackout was, but then she reminded herself that she didn’t have the time nor mental energy to worry about such things. Her grandparents needed her to be strong and to be focused. And perhaps, in the smallest of silver-linings, it was terribly hot outside to the point where they would be in hell without electricity. How long that would last remained to be seen,b ut Stella knew she had to throw a few prayers out there just in case the big guy upstairs was listening. Until then, it was business as usual.

Stella was up early and she was making use of the non-parishables in the pantry. She put together a simple breakfast for both her abuelo and abuela. A bowl of cereal and some fruit. Enough to fill them up. There was still cold water that was in the fridge that hadn’t gone too warm, so she made sure they had that. Of course, there were their pills too. She made sure they were all ready for them after they had breakfast. Her abuelo loved puzzles and her abuela loved to read and with enough light, they could have enough to keep them occupied.

“I’m going into town for a bit. See exactly what is up. Silvester should still be around, so if you need anything, use that hand radio that we got for you. It’s battery-operated so you’ll be able to communicate.” Stella told them as she was putting on her shoes. “I won’t be long, I promise.”

They both looked at her sweetly but it was Alejandro that waved her concern away. “Nieta, you worry too much. We’ll be fine. Nosotras hemos sobrevivido peo.”

Stella sighed but allowed herself to laugh. “If you say so, abuelo.” She gave him a kiss and hugged him. She did the same to her abuela who hugged her tightly, whispering “be safe, mi amor.” in her ear before Stella smiled at her and nodded.

Before emotions would take control, she was out the door. Given the heat, Stella was wearing a pair of blue denim shorts and a purple tank top. She got into her Durango and paused for a minute, letting everything out as the music of Pink blared in her SUV. She screamed and felt every emotion coming out. She may have been back for a few years but situations like today tested her resolve to just say fuck it and put her grandparents in a home. But then she reminded herself that she would rather kill herself than ever do that to them. She couldn’t stand to break their hearts or disappoint them and that was exactly why she had come back when she did.

Stella loved her family. She loved them so damned much that duty took priority over her dreams. The dreams she was just a few years away from probably realizing. She often wondered about that life and where she would’ve been by now. Maybe leading her own sitcom writer’s room. An introspective look on someone who lost all but is trying to chase their dreams and with a dramedy twist. Somewhere between Friends and This is Us.

“Beyond the Pine Grove,” she muttered to herself quietly. That was the name she’d give it. Beyond the Pine Grove. It was paying homage to where she came from but also that she was moving past it. Leaving her home in her past and embracing a future, no matter how long she might have to wait.

Stella let herself daydream as she drove. Imagining her life while paying attention to the road. There were a decent amount of people around and out but it wasn’t entirely unsafe to drive. The police were out directing traffic and even some volunteers from the Black Dogs and other groups were lending hands to help people get from one corner to the other. She would find herself aimlessly drive for a few blocks until she reached Ellie’s practice. Part of her did want to find out what was happening, but there was another reason why she was driving out in town.

Her grandparents needed their pills refilled and she hoped it wouldn’t be too busy at Ellie’s practice that she might be able to get it done aptly.

She was about a block and a half away when a thought occurred to her: What if Ellie doesn’t have power? That thought immediately faded when she remembered Ellie was a doctor. She wasn’t stupid and she was bound to have a backup generator or two on hand just in case the worst did happen and this blackout was just about as worse-case scenario as life in North Carolina could get.

Easing her own mind, she parked in front of Ellie’s practice. She let out a sigh of relief when there didn’t seem to be many out and about or at least not near the practice, so she might be able to do two things she wanted to before it got terribly hot.

The door opened with a ring and Stella spotted Ellie. She was as focused as ever and that warmed her heart. And made Stella just a little jealous. Here she was freaking out internally and then Ellie was calm, collected, and focused. All of her efforts seemed attuned to her job. “Hey, Ellie,” Stella greeted the doctor with a wave. “You don’t seem to be too busy yet. That’s good.” Stella didn’t know Ellie well. She crossed paths with her a few times but mostly, it’s been on a doctor and patient basis. She’d been a lifesaver for her grandparents and her knowledge of the right drugs and what they needed for their pain and other ailments took a load off her and Luna’s backs. “I can’t believe the monthly appointment of refilling these fell on today of all days.” Stella could vent right now and feel no shame, but she didn’t want to do that. Not now and not in a way that would seem selfish.

Pines Holler [Not Accepting]

TW: DEATH, INFERTILITY

_{Flashback - Three Months Ago
Location: Route to Cemetery → Pines Holler Cemetery
Interacting With: Each Other
Mentions: Kent (NPC), Dallas, Valentino @Kaiidth, MC members @Oso}

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The sound of a rusty green truck drowned along Main Street, down that old town road it had so many times in the past, its color symbolic of the woods and the greenery around Pines. It was strange to suddenly be back to normal, the way things changed and how everything around Pines had changed, there were still some things that felt as if Clive was never locked up.

He had the window down. The crisp spring air that had remnants of winter’s frigid grasp on it blew in his messy hair, those dirty blonde locks flowing freely in the air as John Denver’s “Take Me Home, Country Roads” played as loud as Clive could bear. He rocked his head forward to the song as well as tapping the outside of his door. Clive wasn’t a singer but he was humming a melody with the song, almost like it was fueling his soul.

He’d missed it. Being able to freely do what he wanted. There were a lot of things he wanted to do. He wanted to taste the mediocre coffee at Lou’s again. He wanted to spend a weekend out in the woods a few miles away from the trailer park. He wanted to lay on a nice rock and look up at the stars by the creek. So many things that had been on his to-do list that he was gonna start as soon as he got out, but a month ago he got the worst news he could ever have received. It came when the prison had its visiting hours near closing, but one of the Black Dogs came to him.

Kent passed away from an illness that couldn’t be treated. That didn’t hit as hard as what Clive had a realization about. Because of the timing and how quick Kent’s widow was with the service, he would miss it by a month. Of all things, that broke his heart the most. Kent McIntyre was not just a friend but like a brother to Clive. A father figure if he was being sappy. Every night, he had to stop himself from crying. Every night, he needed to focus on the important things. Every single night that passed, he grew closer to being released and once he was able to get home, he knew as soon as he was able, he would make a trip.

That’s how he wound up at the cemetery. He never had a reason to be here. Clive had always been fortunate enough to not know the pain of losing someone. He knows he’s lucky and many of those who he had known in his life couldn’t say the same, which made it all the more…awkward for the thirty-seven-year old to be here and standing in front of a tombstone.

Here rests Kent Finlay McIntyre.
Husband. Father. Brother.
“Many a mickle maks a muckle.”

Clive laughed reading that. He could hear it now, the man who was so proudly Scottish. So annoyingly proud would cite those lame proverbs like they were his version of the gospel. He had never known Kent to be religious. That hardcore gambler, hardcore drinker, always fucking but never praying ass of a donkey did a lot of things but worship Jesus Christ? Probably not one of them, yet he could remember him being at every service because Clive hated going alone.

Kent McIntyre’s death had been a hard blow not just for the community of Pines Holler, but also for his young wife. Five years previously, 22 year-old Mollie King had met the former Black Dogs MC president during a visit to celebrate her cousin Dallas’ eighteenth birthday party. The Vegas girl had been smitten with the man instantly, and the Scottish man had been enamoured by the newcomer just as fast. The relationship progressed rather quickly, with six months passed in between their initial meeting and their shotgun wedding. Despite the age gap, the couple dreamt about and planned for many years together: weekend motorcycle road trips on Kent’s vintage bike, infinite games of pool, having a baby or two…

And then Kent illness struck.

At 26, after four years of marriage, Mollie’s role shifted from housewife to full-time caretaker, and eventually to widow. The near year of nursing her husband and immense grief and heartbreak of losing her better half had turned the once spunky, vivacious blonde into the shadow of herself who took position beside Clive. Her normally slender figure was concerningly thin; a result of missed meals and a general lack of appetite. Her cheeks were hollow, and Kent’s leather jacket hung loosely on her now scrawny frame. Dark roots could be seen growing from her scalp, unattractively melting into the rest of her bleached blonde locks. But the saddest transformation was in the way her blue eyes seemed to have lost the playful sparkle that lit up the room anywhere she went.

Clive didn’t know how long he was standing in front of the grave. Maybe over an hour, but before he even realized it, someone else had shown up. A blonde woman. If he hadn’t acknowledged the sound of approaching footsteps on the fallen leaves, then he might’ve missed it. He smiled even before she approached. She looked skinnier than the last time he saw her. Or maybe that was simply because, compared to everyone he ran into since being out, Clive was a lot bigger. There wasn’t a lot to do in prison. He had read all that really interested him, so he lifted weights a lot. But it was still nice to see a friendly face.

He didn’t say anything yet. He was terrible at situations like these - knowing what to say when someone was grieving. It’s why he never gave any toasts or any grand speeches unless he had to. Still, this was the widow of his best friend. His brother. His President. He should say something. “I heard from the grapevine that the service ran until the next morning.” He smiled, knowing for a fact that’s how Kent would’ve partied. “Big Dog told me. Said you guys really kept his spirit alive during that night.”

A watery chuckle filled the air as Mollie confirmed Clive’s statement with a nod. Kent’s youthful, lively, party boy nature at his age had been one of the first qualities that the blonde had been attracted to since the day they met, so it was only fitting that the man’s memorial had shifted into something more fitting to that wild child personality of his. “We were lucky that asshole Val Lockwood wasn’t on shift that night, or else he would’ve shut us down quick. Parker knew how much Kent meant to all of us, so we were able to get away with it no problem.” the widow explained, thinking back to the night of Kent’s service. What had started out as a solemn event honoring her husband’s life had somehow escalated into a full-blown clubhouse party, with Black Dogs of all ages sharing their most memorable moments with Kent in between cigars, beers and shots of whatever burning alcohol they could get their hands on. The young woman had spent the night between crying, laughing and crying again, her heart both full with how much the community had loved her husband but empty at the titanic absence he had left behind.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you myself when it happened, Clive,” she sincerely apologized to her husband’s protege, the small smile from earlier disappearing as her blue eyes full of shame glued themselves to the ground beneath her. Mollie knew Clive had deserved to hear the news straight from her, but– “I couldn’t bring myself to break your heart like that. I was– well, I am– barely holding on myself. I wouldn’t have been able to put on a strong front for you, and I didn’t want to make you feel like you had to be strong for me before you even had time to grieve him on your own.”

He took a moment to think about what his response would be. Clive allowed himself to stare at Kent’s grave. He hated that she felt in any way guilty for not telling him and he didn’t expect her to be strong enough to actually tell him. In truth, it wouldn’t have mattered if she did it or if someone else had, when he was told, the news nearly broke him to pieces. A heart that had barely been holding it together even at that point, shattered into so many pieces that not even a month to sit on it has completely repaired itself.

“Don’t put that burden on yourself. It’s not your cross to bear. It’s why the MC exists. To share that burden so our old ladies don’t have to live with it.” All while that was true, Clive said it more as to help ease whatever guilt she was feeling about it. “Besides, if you are barely keeping it together, well imagine the sight of not one but two hardened members of the Black Dogs family crying their eyes out in a prison.” Even the thought of it made him crack a smile. “It didn’t change the fact that this town lost one of its brightest lights.”

Mollie nodded solemnly, wiping tears she hadn't noticed had rolled down her hollow cheekbones. Clive was right. The MC and its members had been a crucial part of hers and Kent's lives during that last year of his life, and were the reason Mollie hadn't burned herself out caring for Kent in the first place. They'd helped the couple with warm and leftover meals, spending time with Kent to get his mind off things and give the young woman breaks to eat, shower and catch up on sleep… The genuine love and respect the Black Dogs felt for her husband was felt in every kind thought, action and word. So it was no wonder that his loss had caused such pain to the members of the organization.

“You're telling me. Seeing all those past and present members at the wake howling their eyes out had me howling my eyes out too!” Mollie confirmed, remembering how the funeral home had felt more like a wolf's den with the sounds of grown men crying.

As much as he wanted to keep the mood light, Clive just couldn’t. Easing her guilt was one thing, but keeping a brave front when faced with the harsh reality that Kent was buried six feet deep. God gained an angel but sometimes his Lord could be cruel. “It’s a nice tombstone. Even squeezed in the father bit, huh?” He laughed at that. Kent wasn’t a father but he kinda was one.

Clive's last comment made Mollie chuckle again, blue eyes shifting to the headstone she'd so lovingly selected for her beloved. “He almost had me put ‘Daddy’ in it, did you know?” the woman snickered, shaking her head as she remembered Kent's running joke with the members of the MC and how he'd pranked her that afternoon when they were discussing the final details of his personal affairs. “He said he wanted all of you to remember that he ‘would always be your daddy’, even after he died. When he saw the look on my face, he roared with laughter, said he was joking and told me to just put ‘father’ instead.”

He laughed again. It wasn't just at the fact that he wanted to put that on his tombstone. Clive knew Kent well enough to know that was exactly something his old friend would have done. It was something else that caught the attention of the ex-con. “That sure does sound like him. That sense of humor of his was always something that got him in trouble. Or maybe others to be embarrassed. I couldn’t count the number of times he made me do a quick left-right take of those around us because of something he said.”

As Mollie cackled for the first time in what felt like forever and nodded in agreement, a memory flashed before Clive’s eyes. Ten years ago they were out celebrating Clive making VP. It was a normal outing at Huskers but almost every member of the Black Dogs had gathered on that night, lots of drinking and loud laughter, but Kent was probably the most drunk of all. He had made joke after joke and it got to the point where he said something about being a bad father. So bad he should be punished. And in the way he said it, Clive remembered how red everyone was and it wasn’t just from the amount of whiskey in their stomachs or how hard they were laughing. It was from the embarrassment of seeing Kent lean over the countertop with his flat-as-fuck ass out, slapping it.

“He was one of the most shameless men I had ever known. No lack of confidence.” Clive finally said after about a minute of remembering and then he smiled. “But even though he never had any kids of his own, sometimes it felt like I was something like a son to him.” Clive smiled a bit more sadder this time. “Never did have a great relationship with my own. I even went through a rebellious phase in my younger years. Kent found me one day at Huskers and we drank all night and the next day I joined Black Dogs as his prospect.” It was strange, standing here over his grave, how a man who lived life so fully and never once apologized could be gone. No…not gone. He’s still here. So Clive smiled at that.

“My relationship with him was different than yours was. To us in the MC, he was like a father. A brother. An uncle, and at times, a royal pain in our asses. But to you, he was something more. A lover. A partner and, if he remained true even in his last days, a royal pain in your ass.” Clive laughed at that. More because he could just imagine how stubborn he was to the Grim Reaper even if Death himself was sitting in a chair waiting for Kent to finally be ready.

While Clive's story of how her husband became a father-like figure to him and how important he was to him warmed her heart, it also unearthed dark thoughts she had assumed had been buried alongside Kent. “I wanted to give him a kid of his own,” the woman quietly confessed, letting her nearly-skeletal fingers softly graze the cold concrete of the headstone to distract herself from the sudden agonizing ache in her chest. “He wanted to be a father as badly as I wanted to make him one– and it wasn't for lack of trying. Just wasn't in the cards for us, I guess,” she ended sourly, the words leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.

For the longest time, Mollie had cursed herself for being unable to fulfill what was widely considered a woman’s main purpose in life. Every few weeks, she had stared long and hard at every pregnancy test she took, desperately hoping to see that positive sign that meant life was growing inside her. Instead, she felt herself sinking deeper and deeper into despair and hopelessness at each negative result. Giving up on their attempts to start a family due to Kent’s failing health had been one of the hardest decisions the couple had ever made, but Mollie wanted to think it had all been for the best. The heartbreak of losing her husband was soul-sucking enough without the pressure of having to raise a child without a father.

A bittersweet smile crept its way on Clive's face. A memory flashed through his blue eyes, recalling conversations he and Kent had many times. Both when Clive was a lot younger, when he had joined the Black Dogs and started to get close enough to Kent to have deeper conversations. He remembered how Kent lamented to him about his dreams of fatherhood, how life in the military and failed relationships never gave him the chance to really be a father.

A twitch pulsed through Clive’s face, a hint of sadness and bit of anger of the circumstances that took Kent away from everyone. But it was also sadness for Mollie, because she wasn’t able to give Kent what he wanted, after finally being in a relationship with someone who loved him as much as he loved her.

Clive looked at Mollie, smiling her way. “Life is unfair but shit happens,” Clive recited, speaking in his best, albeit totally failing at, Scottish accent he could muster. Pretty sure it sounded more European than anything else, but it made the woman laugh a little. “That’s what Kent used to tell me all the time. It’s what he told me when I was finding my way through the MC as a prospect.” Clive often wondered what Kent would say right now? What would be his words of wisdom? Probably something about drinking, fucking, and more drinking and fucking.

“He wasn’t wrong, though,” Mollie admitted in a sing-song voice, nodding in agreement. If there was something Kent MacIntyre wasn't, it was a dreamer. Sure: he indulged in entertaining fantasies every once in a while, but the man lived his life with both feet firmly planted on the ground. Some called him a Negative Nancy for it. Mollie knew it was just blunt, realistic honesty. “‘Life is unfair but shit happens, and it’s up to you how you play the cards life dealt ‘cha’,” she finished her husband's famous saying in her own terrible attempt at a Scottish accent, trying to lighten the mood like Clive had earlier. “So that's what I've been doing now: playing the cards life dealt me. I was stuck in bed for two months after he left, but I knew I couldn't do that forever. He wouldn't have wanted me to wither away like that. So did what he would’ve wanted me to do: put on my big girl pants and get back on the saddle. It still hurts like hell to wake up every day without him next to me knowing he'll never be back, but I just try to live life in a way he would've been proud of… Like he would've wanted you and everyone else to do, too.”

“That’s the first step.” Clive thought for a moment. He turned his head away from Mollie and turned his blue eyes on Kent’s grave. The irony of grieving the man was that Clive could really use his advice right about now. Not just about what he should do from here on out but what should Mollie do now that she’s taken that first step. What should be their path moving forward? That was the question that could solve all of their problems, but God didn’t give you all the answers - only what you needed and could handle.

“Remember not the former things, nor consider the things of old. Behold, I am doing a new thing; I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.” Clive recited, giving Mollie a smile. A few tears glistened in the sunlight but he didn’t bother to wipe them away. There was joy in embracing the natural reaction to grief. “Isaiah, 43 18-19. I’ve been reading the good book a lot lately. It’s been…comforting.”

Mollie nodded in understanding. As someone who'd never been interested in religion, she couldn't relate to Clive finding solace in the scripture of an ancient book. But what she could do was understand his reasoning behind it without any judgement. It was a healthier option than seeking consolation in the bottom of a bottle or illicit substances, after all.

“And I guess we have each other now too, right?” the blonde said with a small smile, turning to face Clive and noticing his own tears slowly disappear into his beard. She didn’t know what exactly possessed her to do it (probably Kent’s spirit from beyond the grave hoping to provide comfort to his son of sorts), but before she could stop herself, Mollie was closing the distance between the two and wrapping her arms around the man’s burly frame in a tight hug she was sure they both needed.

There wasn’t a physical hesitation on Clive’s end when she decided to go for a hug, but only a mental one. He knew it was nothing more than two people who loved Kent and found comfort in the moment, but he didn’t do well with hugs in tense situations. He didn’t know what he should do. Should he return it or should he just let her hug him and be the wall of support for her in that moment.

After about five seconds of thought, Clive opted to return it as he wrapped his bigger arms around his friend’s widow. He didn’t know what the right amount of force for a hug with someone like this was. Too tight and it would send the wrong messages but not tight enough and that could send the wrong message, so he gave her a hug back that was the same as if he was hugging a family member in need. A friend who wanted to comfort him and needed comfort herself. And he wasn’t the type to just do it for a few seconds. However long they remained, whether it was five seconds, a minute, ten minutes even, he would hold her there, let her be the one to release first.

But the truth was, as silent as the day around them was, Clive needed it as much as she did. Probably more. “You got that right.” He said to her as quiet as a whisper and then in an even quieter tone that was for his ears only, he murmured, “She’ll be okay, Kent. We got her.”