Status

Recent Statuses

2 yrs ago
Current Case closed (3)
5 likes
2 yrs ago
I hear french and all I can think about is "Omelette du fromage"
9 likes
3 yrs ago
[@neurovoid] That article looks incredibly biased for one agenda. There are various articles that list differences in neural wiring and anatomy. Not to mention hormones from gender-specific organs
1 like
3 yrs ago
@Graviloquence Dutch, I also had German and french for a few years in high school. Other than that, I know a decent bit of Latin.
1 like
3 yrs ago
I could sleep... But you know. I can also just write some more.
5 likes

Bio

Something something... will write something here later.

Fun fact: I never did

Most Recent Posts









There was something unique about the air in florida, as pervaded with airplane exhaustion as it was. Alexander couldn’t tell you what it was, but it felt like home. A nostalgic aura might be the most accurate description he could give you. But he couldn’t tell you how something that felt so homely, so integral to your very existence, still felt to foreign. When was the last time he had been here? His wedding. The last time he had been in Florida, she had still been alive. It had been Everly’s hand in his at that time instead of Rosie’s. The two of them trotted along at a merry pace, the speed of which very much gave away his little girl’s excitement about exploring a new place.

His daughter happily consumed the ice cream he had bought her, a welcome treat against the imposing sun of the early summer. She was so incredibly excited for him to fulfil everything he had promised her. They would visit the beaches, seaworld and even a few days to Walt Disney world. Of course, he’d also take her on a trip to the Kennedy space center. He wasn’t going to let an opportunity go to waste where he could show of his and her late mother’s greatest passion. Not to mention, it was the place where they had first met…

For a short while his mind trailed off. For a few seconds he felt the bliss of early teen love once again. Then he could feel himself being plummeted into the dark depths of loss. The bitter feeling of inevitability that he had felt when… No, not here. He had to pull himself together. Rosie couldn’t see her father’s despair. She was too young for the hard reality of this world. The girl somewhat understood the concept of death, in minor detail. But she had no idea of the immense pain it brought. How could she? And Alex was not about to pull her out of the bliss wonderland that one called ignorant childhood. The wonderland in which santa claus and the easter bunny existed as well. So he had to be strong. Everly counted on him to give their daughter the life she deserved, after all.

If only she could see how well she was growing up.

Yes, he had all sorts of trips planned with his daughter while they were in Florida. Two weeks of workless joy. But the first three days of that she would get to spend with her grandparents. Alex’s parents hadn’t seen the girl in well over a year now, and the same was true for Everly’s. He was lucky that they were able to come to D.C. the last few years. His busy work schedule hadn’t allowed much space (ha, astrology pun) to venture out. But he very much needed a way to blow off the work stress. The time had finally come.

His parental home was only one hour drive away from the airport. ”Hi, grandma” He told his mother as the door flung open. He looked at her appreciatively. It was strange how much more she had started to look like a granny after Rosie was born. As if the birth of grandchildren drained the age from grandparents’ bodies. But at the same time, Lydia Shields was still his lovely mother. A person he had grown to respect far more over the years, now that the hardships of parenthood were so much clearer to him. With a small pat on the back, Rosie was encouraged to give grannie Lydia a big hug, and they were invited in.

A very similar ritual repeated with grandpa, who was inside on his chair watching the baseball game. It was as if he hadn’t moved in the five years since Alex had last left him there (of course, he had visited, so this was obviously not true). A big hug for grandpa as well, and then they settled down for a nice cup of tea. Except for Rosie; she preferred the sweet taste of lemonade to the bitter tea. Roughly one hour later, he gave his princess a big hug of his own. The child nodded sweetly to his instructions: Be a good girl, be nice to your grandparents, eat your vegetables, brush your teeth and say hi to grandpa Joseph and grandma Miranda. Every instruction was met with a slightly more sarcastic yes. Ah, she was just like her mother.

She was going to be hell as a teenager, Alex already knew it. He pressed one more kiss against her forehead and left his daughter for a cosy three days with the grans.

The one hour drive towards Florida keys felt much more relaxed afterwards. He loved his daughter to death, but he could not deny the sweet relief that came with being able to have some time to himself for a bit. Between work and parenthood, that only amounted to maybe one hour every day on any normal day. It was so extremely draining that he couldn’t even start to explain it to others. And he didn’t want to explain it. What if they thought of him as a bad parent afterwards? He truly loved his daughter. But some days of rest were exactly what he needed. Even if he was still somewhat sceptical of the company he would find himself in over the next days. Still, a luxury resort was a luxury resort.

That was the main reason why he was going to this reunion, really. Alex couldn’t give too much of a damn about the reunion itself. He needed rest. He needed a distraction from his life, the grind he was in daily. Of course, there were people he did want to see again. He hadn’t seen most of his high school friends in some time. He still had contacts with a number of the dudes, and he still gamed with Grace on occasion. However, Alex didn’t have much of an attachment to the days. The most important person of those days was gone, after all. But still, it couldn’t hurt to reconnect. He didn’t have a clean break with everyone in high school. Willow came to mind especially. Maybe they could talk it out? He regretted how their friendship had gone to waste.

Florida keys was a place of beauty. He never really liked Amanda, but he could appreciate her choice of décor. The resort she picked matched exactly what he had pictured in his mind. It was strange, now that the moment was finally there, he was feeling strangely nostalgic to see those people again. It was like his “not giving a damn” switch got turned to “cautious curiosity”. He had to be wary to not grow excited. Surely setting his expectations too high would only lead to pathetic disappointment. He towed his luggage into the lobby.

The neat interior of the lobby sharply contrasted that of his home, which was cleaned far too infrequently. He forcefully prevented himself from making a mental note of all the stuff he still had to do at home. Relaxation was the name of the game for the next two weeks. He increased his pace to the reception. Alexander presented his most polite smile as he was confronted by the receptionist’s own. ”I’m checking in for the King’s academy reunion. The name is Shields.” And that was that. He forced himself to resign to three days of distraction. Three days of peace, should his former classmates allow him. He thanked the receptionist as he was told his room number and was handed the keys. Surely he could sneak in a short, well-deserved nap before he had to prepare himself.



@Dirty Pretty Lies


Annie totally forced me to join this.

Reserving Richard Madden. No colour yet.


Ah, but a visitor ended his domain! And suddenly the dimly lit hill was not so lonely anymore. The tone of Nate’s music changed slightly when he sensed the stranger approaching. The tones shifted towards something warmer, something inviting. He was like a sailor luring the sailor with a song. But Nate sought no prey, just company. What was a musical performance without an audience! Even though Nate enjoyed playing by himself. There was something magical to playing around others. Yes, there was something Nate adored about the silent appreciation of others for his work-

"Sorry, I don't mean to interrupt."

And so the music came to a sudden and abrupt halt. For the love of baby Christ. If this mystery man didn’t mean to do what he just did. Then why was that the first thing he had decided to do? WHAT WAS WRONG WITH HIM.

’No.’ Nate thought. ’No, it’s fine. You should have expected this sort of barbarism from the friends of Rachel Ashford.’ What was he expecting of these people, really? Well, a lot more social competency than this, for one. Indie and Theo were quite a pair of social butterflies, after all. What else was there to be expected of a crowd which only partied. This poor bugger probably was just trying to escape the noise. Yes, his lack of social awareness did seem to imply that mode of action to be feasible. Nate felt a bit of pity.

"You're good at that."

At least the guy had an ear for music, it seemed. Though he would’ve preferred if he had kept his praises until after the performance. It was quite hard to judge a musician when you’ve literally heard only a few minutes of play. His compliment, as a result, was really quite moot. But perhaps Nate should stop that pessimistic train of thought. The poor sod was just trying to be nice, to reach out. Nate had been so… jaded ever since he arrived on this island. What this place was and embodied just didn’t sit well with him. But that was no reason to mentally tear every person to shreds that he met.

Yes, he had to try and be nice. That wasn’t so hard, was it? He did it in daily life, somehow. People did think of him as kind and charismatic. He had somehow managed to be nice to even the most thick-headed customers he had met in his life as an entrepreneur. Why couldn’t he be nice to a bunch of spoiled rich kids for a few days? Oh, he did it again. Bad Nate.

”Thank you, you’re very kind.” He answered to the man. See, it wasn’t that hard to be nice! Maybe he could keep it up and not go crazy. Now that the stranger was closer, he could somewhat make out what he looked like. Fairly tall, quite broad and rather handsome. He probably would be a hit with the ladies once he figured out how to string together more than five words at a time. He seemed to wear the latest fashions. Were those clothes from his brand? He couldn’t quite make out. The light of the fire below wasn’t quite bright enough. He figured it was unlikely that anyone besides Indie even knew of Amity at this point. It was gaining popularity for sure. But he couldn’t quite call it mainstream yet.

”Well, since you’re my only audience right now. Care to make a request?” He asked with a charismatic smile. Nate was confident in his skill that he could at least try to play whatever was thrown at him (and otherwise he had his phone to look up the score, if he didn’t know the song, anyway). Of course, Nate assumed he would pick something of some musical complexity. Nate had explicitly forbidden Indie from making any requests after she proposed he played Ariana Grande. Like, really? He had been inclined to hit her over the head with his instrument then and there. That said, he did have fun teasing her with it after the fact. He adored Indie, but in this moment Nate fervently prayed that not all of Rachel’s invitees were such philistines.

Well, he braced himself for disappointment.


Seriously wtf is this guy doing


Tonight was a night for a party, but not for Nate. Nate had run for the hills. He had found himself a nice, cosy bench, surrounded by some soothingly aromatic flora, that overlooked the fire-lit beach beautifully. Indeed, it was quite a sight. Perhaps it would be even better if that blasting VIP tent wasn’t covering half of his view. Who had a freaking VIP tent on a party that was just about 99% inhabited by their own invited friends? Apparently Rachel flipping Ashford was too amazing to be among her own people.

Pre-ten-tious.

Did that surprise anyone, though? Did it? Alas, not all was lost! Indeed, there were enough ways to make your own fun on a beautiful island like this. Contrary to popular belief, you didn’t have to kiss Rachel flaming(ha!) Ashford’s undoubtedly pretty ass to have fun here. Nate was never without his own means of enjoyment, and only half of them involved work! Huh, maybe his secretary was right. Good ol’ Patty had been telling him for the last two years to go to therapy. And that was before that… accident… at Indie’s 19th birthday party.

But how did Nate make his own fun, you might ask. Well, the answer was quite simple. Nate always had a plan B. And tonight that plan involved a high spot and his trusty violin. Add a bit of imagination and… voila. Now he was the conclusive emperor of the Julio-Claudian dynasty. Well, the tale that Nero fiddled while Rome burned in the great fires were a total myth, but that didn’t make it any less fun to act out. His imagination did not project a view of the island burning, of course. Not even Nate was that far gone. He wished the people down there a jolly good time with their blazing(ha ha!) party.

Nate was just going to fiddle… well… playing a violin wasn’t really the same as fiddling but it came close enough. He enjoyed playing the instrument (definitely more than he would attending that party), and he didn’t want to get sloppy. Somehow he always played at his best when his imagination was running wild. And right now his mind was playing Beethoven’s ninth sonata as the decadent Nero from the great palace’s balcony.

Would Rachel let him build a statue of himself on the beach if he asked nicely? Probably not.

He wondered if - fuming hell, that was so out of tune they probably heard him at the party, teaches him for wondering – if Theo and Indie were having fun down there. They probably were. They were in the zone here. Maybe he’d just shadow one of them tomorrow. Maybe, just maybe, he’d find out what enthused them so about Rachel fracking Ashford. Probably not, but they couldn’t fault Nate for not trying!

God, somebody end his loneliness right here. He would kill for a small audience. Was he the only one who wasn’t drawn like a moth to the flame? Could nobody appreciate the peacefulness of a beautiful view over the hubbub of the noise down below? Nay, for now his music was simply gone with the wind.



A grin adorned Nathan’s face as he grabbed the glass Farah just delivered to him and rose it in return to his friend. He then put down the cash for the drink and then some. He nodded friendly at the bartender and muttered a word of thanks. Theodore wasn’t the only one thinking the bartender was cute. Maybe he’d look for an opportunity to chat with her lately. (The longer he could avoid the rich brats, the better.)
He slowly savoured his cocktail, though he couldn’t help his face slightly twisting at the sourness of the lemon juice. It indeed had been quite some time since he had enjoyed this classic. He had a soft spot for sour. Where other people had a sweet tooth, he had a sour one

”Crazy, yes.” He had a lot of other words for this place. But crazy definitely would apply. Some of those other words would make him sound too much like a party-pooper. Seriously, why did Nate always find a reason to complain. What was there to complain about when you were chatting with a friend, drinking a good drink and had cute girls in view? Perhaps Nate was better off swallowing the sour attitude – just like his drink!

(Let’s be honest, that was not going to last for very long. But we can let the guy dream, can we?)

Wait a second, hadn’t Nate met Theodore’s cousin before? Well, he really only said hi to her, but whatever. He knew who Theo was talking about. Indie and Lottie in one cabin… oh wait… oh no. ”Well that must be awk-” He cut himself off. He nearly forgot that Theodore didn’t know about that. ”I heard she and her boyfriend broke up recently, didn’t they? I guess she can use the distraction, huh?” He quickly said. Yeah, let’s absolutely not give him any details about Lottie’s post-Luca sex life, yeah that was probably a good idea. You’re an absolute genius Natey-boy. Maybe he should just throw himself into the ocean and be done with it. ”So when you say chaperoning, you really mean being anywhere she isn’t, right?”

He took a sip, only to find his glass empty. When had he finished it all? Had Theo taken his drink while he wasn’t looking? He turned back to the bar, and waited until he once again had the attention of Farah. ”One stout, please, heaviest one you have.” Maybe the alcohol would give him the courage to talk to anyone that wasn’t the only person on this island (besides Indie) that he could call a friend. If he was lucky, they might even come to him. Whoa there Natey, calm down, don’t go getting any crazy ideas now.

Well, if anything else failed, he could always just drink himself to oblivion. Let’s just hope it didn’t come to that.



One half of a boat ride was plenty for Nathan why he had been so reluctant in the first place. It really wasn’t just Indie’s unlimited energy that she channelled purely into getting a selfie with him. He liked the girl, truly, but he was still fighting his own inner battles at the moment. Could she maybe talk about something else than her Instagram for two seconds? Well… that wasn’t fair. Without her ceaseless conquest for popularity, she’d have far less reason to hang around Nate as long than she had already. Maybe he should just give her this one picture. One to get her to move on.

But being the good friend that he is, he could not stop himself from saying cheese to a positively disastrous outcome (Confirmed: Indie likes sausage better). He knew exactly the scornful look she was hiding from him at this moment. It were little things like these that kept Nate sane at the moment. An opportunity to turn the mess of his mind into one insanely focussed attempt to annoy his friend. She didn’t mind, really.

Now where was he? Oh yes. ‘Why the hell did I go with her in the first place?’ One part of his brain, probably the right half, echoed through his skull. What did Nate have to gain from going to fucking Carnation island? It weren’t the parties, really. Nathan did enjoy a good party, albeit in moderation . Moderation had clearly missed this boat.

This also wasn’t his crowd, really. Sure, there would be people he could get along with. He just had to avoid the druggies, pompous asshats and spoiled daddy’s girls clinging onto their fleeting college-time popularity until the very last second before it faded post-graduation. Ah, the sad fate of the early bloomer.

’Oh, shut up and enjoy your free vacation.’ The much less cynical half of his brain retorted. Thanks, leftie, for reminding him of the things that were truly important. Surely somewhere on this island he could find something he could call a good use of much-needed recreational free time. If not, well there was always alcohol.

As for the crowd. Surely he would find someone to get along with if he played nicely, right? At least he had Indie to fall back on. And he believed Theo was coming too. That was a relief. Okay, maybe this was actually going to be enjoyable! Yes Nate, be optimistic damn it!

Now he just had to set the endless stream of work e-mails, that were causing his phone to buzz to a degree that put Indie’s to shame, out of his mind and he was completely sorted. That was something both brain halves agreed on as they laughed in his face. Maybe he could muster the willpower to turn the damn thing off when he wasn’t fighting world war three in his mind.

Indie buzzed him back to reality for a bit. Frankly, he didn’t really give a damn about social media besides the insane business prospects it offered. But Nate was more than willing to set that aside for a friend. Apparently some Belladonna appreciated his show of optimism and wit.

”It’s a flower… Pity her, her mom’s probably an ex-hippie.“
At least it was very different from the kind of shade he thought he’d get from Indie’s followers. (I swear I’m funny)

Then the boat stopped. There was truly no way back now. Well, there hadn’t been the moment he stepped on this boat, but that wasn’t what he was telling himself right now. He blended himself into the crowd and joined the stream of people to the welcoming party.

Barely three steps onto the island’s soil later the masses were greeted by the way too excited queen-mistress of clove pink (For a moment he considered pitching that title to her, considering she wasn’t to be the queen of woodford for much longer). There was a very real possibility that Nate was the only person in this crowd who didn’t give a single shred of a miserable damn about Rachel Ashford. Regardless, it wasn’t polite to be rude to your host, and so he saved himself the energy of rolling his eyes at this speech.

He accepted his envelope questioningly. How did they even know who he was? It was then he noticed he had lost Indie in the crowd. ’Never get pets, Indie.’ He sighed, then opened his envelope. The map was probably his new best friend for this journey. He made a mental note of his cabin number, and figured dumping his stuff there was probably the best course of action.

Twenty minutes later, Nate walked into a bar. Maybe a drink would set him straight. He contemplated the other name on his cabin’s plaque. Were his parents a fan of fine art, or the teenage mutant ninja turtles? Not something he’ll likely ask Michelangelo directly, unfortunately.

Fortunately for him, he would not be alone at the bar. He found the one other friendly face he knew. Only one seat next to him was occupied, and Nate made no qualms about taking the other side. He saw lips moving as he approached, but didn’t quite catch anything that was said. ”Theo!” he said as he sat down. ”Already found your new favorite spot, I see.” Then he turned to the bartender and added to the workload..”One whiskey sour, please.”

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