Oct. 30th, 2016
"Cold hard bitch."
Oct. 30th, 2016 02:24 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
likefatherlikesonWho: Justin and Mark Campbell
What: Not impressed
Where: Somewhere they're both not supposed to be
When: Saturday lunch time
Justin was just arrived back from his doctor's appointment when he saw his dad leave the apartment building. This was the first medical appointment he had gone to alone in a long time, but the way he was feeling about things right now, he was feeling like he needed to start doing this shit on his own anyway. Technically on his own. Keely had made the appointment and taken him there, but he told her he would get a cab back. He didn't have a lot of patience right now, so he just wanted to take each step as it came. He wouldn't have been happy if the throat specialist told him he shouldn't perform that night because it could potentially risk his vocal chords, but he had been giving a clearance for the night only, but he had rest and recover from the flu bug afterwards and get back to it when he was fighting fit again.
He had seen his dad's Facebook post. He assumed it was directed at this wedding shit that had resulted in Justin being 100% done with his parents bullshit, but he couldn't be sure. Still, it wasn't usual for his dad to be leaving in the middle of the day on a Saturday because he usually took that as his rest day. Like it or not, he had to take care of himself because he had a history of heart issues. Saturday was usually a family day. It had been for as long as Justin could remember. It wasn't a Sunshine weekend, though. Justin had spent most of the week locked in his room. He didn't know what was going on, nor had he cared. Up to until now.
He didn't know why he followed his dad, but he didn't want to talk to him to ask him where he was going. Turns out, he didn't have to follow for very far, and it was lucky there were witnesses, or he might well have punched his dad in the face. Instead, he stepped up to the bar, snatched up the glass that had just been placed in front of him, and slammed it down onto the bar, smashing it into pieces. He glared furiously at his dad for all of five seconds before he turned and stormed back out, ignoring the protests from the bartender about the glass. Justin just flipped him off as he walked out the door. He didn't fucking care about a glass, all he cared about was what was in it and who had been served it. And he was furious.
What: Not impressed
Where: Somewhere they're both not supposed to be
When: Saturday lunch time
Justin was just arrived back from his doctor's appointment when he saw his dad leave the apartment building. This was the first medical appointment he had gone to alone in a long time, but the way he was feeling about things right now, he was feeling like he needed to start doing this shit on his own anyway. Technically on his own. Keely had made the appointment and taken him there, but he told her he would get a cab back. He didn't have a lot of patience right now, so he just wanted to take each step as it came. He wouldn't have been happy if the throat specialist told him he shouldn't perform that night because it could potentially risk his vocal chords, but he had been giving a clearance for the night only, but he had rest and recover from the flu bug afterwards and get back to it when he was fighting fit again.
He had seen his dad's Facebook post. He assumed it was directed at this wedding shit that had resulted in Justin being 100% done with his parents bullshit, but he couldn't be sure. Still, it wasn't usual for his dad to be leaving in the middle of the day on a Saturday because he usually took that as his rest day. Like it or not, he had to take care of himself because he had a history of heart issues. Saturday was usually a family day. It had been for as long as Justin could remember. It wasn't a Sunshine weekend, though. Justin had spent most of the week locked in his room. He didn't know what was going on, nor had he cared. Up to until now.
He didn't know why he followed his dad, but he didn't want to talk to him to ask him where he was going. Turns out, he didn't have to follow for very far, and it was lucky there were witnesses, or he might well have punched his dad in the face. Instead, he stepped up to the bar, snatched up the glass that had just been placed in front of him, and slammed it down onto the bar, smashing it into pieces. He glared furiously at his dad for all of five seconds before he turned and stormed back out, ignoring the protests from the bartender about the glass. Justin just flipped him off as he walked out the door. He didn't fucking care about a glass, all he cared about was what was in it and who had been served it. And he was furious.
"When I get you alone."
Oct. 30th, 2016 01:10 pmprivateinvestigationsWho: Clint Chevalier and Paxton Carlyle
What: Werk
Where: London, England
When: Saturday evening
Clint didn't expect to be back in London so soon, but here he was, a few weeks later, back to the scene of the crime... aka, his wedding. He hadn't travelled with anyone this time, and he was here to work rather than play. He had stood outside the hotel he had tracked Paxton down to, having a couple of smokes while he watched the coming and going. He knew if the dude left the hotel, he wouldn't miss him by a long shot. The guy was en epic ginger with flaming red hair. He would be impossible to miss.
Clint finished his smoke and flicked the butt to the ground, stamping it out with the tip of his boot. He checked the photo of Paxton on his phone again, just on the off chance the concierge staff were overrun with gingers. You never knew, stranger fucking things had happened. The man who entered the hotel lobby wasn't Clint Chevalier. It was a toffed up, posh as ever loving fuck professional businessman swathed in Armani and Italian leather accessories. His hair was slicked back, and what had replaced his sunglasses were a pair of thick-framed designer spectacles. Clint could pass for a Harvard graduate looking like he did right now, or a highly skilled plain-clothes detective.
He spotted Paxton straight away, and went up to him. "Hello, sir. Are you Paxton Carlyle?" he asked. His accent was that of a pristine, upper-class Londoner, so much so that he could be mistaken as fucking offspring of the Queen. Clint wasn't excellent at his job simply because he knew how to research. This was his bread and butter, and he had taken down piles of evil cunts. Thankfully, this case was child's play compared to what he usually worked. It was breezy, at best.
What: Werk
Where: London, England
When: Saturday evening
Clint didn't expect to be back in London so soon, but here he was, a few weeks later, back to the scene of the crime... aka, his wedding. He hadn't travelled with anyone this time, and he was here to work rather than play. He had stood outside the hotel he had tracked Paxton down to, having a couple of smokes while he watched the coming and going. He knew if the dude left the hotel, he wouldn't miss him by a long shot. The guy was en epic ginger with flaming red hair. He would be impossible to miss.
Clint finished his smoke and flicked the butt to the ground, stamping it out with the tip of his boot. He checked the photo of Paxton on his phone again, just on the off chance the concierge staff were overrun with gingers. You never knew, stranger fucking things had happened. The man who entered the hotel lobby wasn't Clint Chevalier. It was a toffed up, posh as ever loving fuck professional businessman swathed in Armani and Italian leather accessories. His hair was slicked back, and what had replaced his sunglasses were a pair of thick-framed designer spectacles. Clint could pass for a Harvard graduate looking like he did right now, or a highly skilled plain-clothes detective.
He spotted Paxton straight away, and went up to him. "Hello, sir. Are you Paxton Carlyle?" he asked. His accent was that of a pristine, upper-class Londoner, so much so that he could be mistaken as fucking offspring of the Queen. Clint wasn't excellent at his job simply because he knew how to research. This was his bread and butter, and he had taken down piles of evil cunts. Thankfully, this case was child's play compared to what he usually worked. It was breezy, at best.
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muserevival | 131.7. Misc
Oct. 30th, 2016 04:35 pmlivefortodayThe 45 Questions About You Meme @ muserevival
1) Put your iTunes on shuffle. Give me the first 6 songs that pop up.
Set Fire to the Rain by Adele, Pumped Up Kicks by Foster the People, Radioactive by Imagine Dragons, Mad World by Gary Jules, Man in the Mirror by Michael Jackson, and Pompeii by Bastille.
2) If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?
Anyone willing to put their hands in their pockets and donate to a mental health charity, so I can thank them.
3) Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 64, give me line 14
"Just a letter."
4) What do you think about most?
My patients.
5) What was the last lie you told?
"I'm fine, just tired."
6) Do you believe in karma?
I do.
7) Do you have any irrational fears?
Losing my family... I don't think that's necessarily an irrational fear for anyone to have.
8) What sexuality do you identify as?
Straight.
9) How can someone win your heart?
An innately beautiful person being themselves.
10) What is something you want in your life right now?
A committed relationship.
( +35 more. )
muserevival1) Put your iTunes on shuffle. Give me the first 6 songs that pop up.
Set Fire to the Rain by Adele, Pumped Up Kicks by Foster the People, Radioactive by Imagine Dragons, Mad World by Gary Jules, Man in the Mirror by Michael Jackson, and Pompeii by Bastille.
2) If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?
Anyone willing to put their hands in their pockets and donate to a mental health charity, so I can thank them.
3) Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 64, give me line 14
"Just a letter."
4) What do you think about most?
My patients.
5) What was the last lie you told?
"I'm fine, just tired."
6) Do you believe in karma?
I do.
7) Do you have any irrational fears?
Losing my family... I don't think that's necessarily an irrational fear for anyone to have.
8) What sexuality do you identify as?
Straight.
9) How can someone win your heart?
An innately beautiful person being themselves.
10) What is something you want in your life right now?
A committed relationship.
( +35 more. )
americanskinFRIENDLY REMINDER: The surprise birthday party for Ains and Haz under the guise of a Halloween party is still 100% a-go!
@ Nick and Cheyne's place, Sunday, starts at 7pm
Halloween costumes compulsory, or you don't get in!
@ Nick and Cheyne's place, Sunday, starts at 7pm
Halloween costumes compulsory, or you don't get in!
[ FACEBOOK ]
Oct. 30th, 2016 09:41 pmforeverfabulousI think I'd actually welcome being an alcoholic anorexic drug addict with a botox allergy over this any day #nicetrypaparazzi #alsofuckyou
"No more lonely nights..."
Oct. 30th, 2016 10:27 pmstarttomakeitbetterWho? Jude Willis and Reecy Chester
What? Setting things right
When? The night of the Halloween concert
Where? The venue of choice
Jude had planned this out in his head in an extravagant manner, complete with a musical performance on stage. It was a little known fact that Jude could sing and play guitar. He wasn't the talented singer that his brother was, but he had a nice voice, and he enjoyed making music. He'd brought the idea up to Justin, who had given him a look that could very easily have put holes in Jude's torso if eyeballs had that power. After deciding that he didn't necessarily want to kill Jude on the spot for being so fucking stupid, Justin had talked him around and explained how his plan was quite possibly the stupidest thing ever, but that he would get Jude backstage to talk to Reecy privately after the show if he wanted that.
Which was how he came to be sitting there in the dressing room, no one but him and the girl he loved, with his guitar, which had been dropped off special by Billy. A tiny table had been set up where Jude had poured two glasses of sparkling white grape juice on either side of a single lit candle. A theater dressing room might not have been the most romantic place in the entire world, but for his purposes, it would do. Reecy wasn't the sort of girl who wanted tons of money spent on her. She just wanted to know that she was loved and desired. And for Jude, she absolutely was. In every conceivable way.
What? Setting things right
When? The night of the Halloween concert
Where? The venue of choice
Jude had planned this out in his head in an extravagant manner, complete with a musical performance on stage. It was a little known fact that Jude could sing and play guitar. He wasn't the talented singer that his brother was, but he had a nice voice, and he enjoyed making music. He'd brought the idea up to Justin, who had given him a look that could very easily have put holes in Jude's torso if eyeballs had that power. After deciding that he didn't necessarily want to kill Jude on the spot for being so fucking stupid, Justin had talked him around and explained how his plan was quite possibly the stupidest thing ever, but that he would get Jude backstage to talk to Reecy privately after the show if he wanted that.
Which was how he came to be sitting there in the dressing room, no one but him and the girl he loved, with his guitar, which had been dropped off special by Billy. A tiny table had been set up where Jude had poured two glasses of sparkling white grape juice on either side of a single lit candle. A theater dressing room might not have been the most romantic place in the entire world, but for his purposes, it would do. Reecy wasn't the sort of girl who wanted tons of money spent on her. She just wanted to know that she was loved and desired. And for Jude, she absolutely was. In every conceivable way.
