[ you know that meme where it's like "peasant is flavor blasted by doritos" that's kind of what's happening here
by which i mean, taair (who is no longer sexy) is holding a bottled soda of some kind in one hand. he's reading the label, examining it with all the curiosity you might expect, before he nods to himself.
and richie gets to see just as taair turns his hand to open the bottlecap, all the carbonation fizzes and it starts to go all over the place. ]
Who is not Richie I am sorry to say, he's holding out for Christie Brinkley. He'd stand a better chance with her now than yesterday, clad in sensible clothes. Bomber jacket over a button up and slick jeans, real casual stuff but a cut above department store fare.
Which makes it quite urgent to stop the eruptions of Mount Pepsi. Richie darts in, clasping a hand hard over the mouth of the bottle and yanking it out and away from Taair's clothes. The soda keeps fizzing, but now it's pathetic dribbling down the side of the bottle.]
[ late in the afternoon on tuesday, a figure sits on the wooden slats of the boardwalk, feet dangling over the edge - it's taair, who seems to have parked himself here as the dusk begins to streak across the sky.
he's got a book spread open in his lap, and occasionally writes something in it. he also, occasionally, tosses a piece of some kind of food (pizza...?) to a seagull nearby that's cozying up next to his hip.
he doesn't seem to have noticed that he has company yet! or if he does, he's not really paying attention. ]
Edited (please dont ask me how many times i edited this looks away ) 2025-02-10 22:16 (UTC)
help i missed your note at the top I REALLY LIKE THEM TOO! CRUSHES HIM IN MY HANDS
[Richie could try to spook him. It's prime spookin positions. But as he wanders up he decides against it. If they were the same age he wouldn't hesitate. Being fifteen-odd years ahead of him, it feels like a cheap shot.]
[ man. taair is standing at the very edge of the boardwalk, his arms behind his back, hands clasped together as he looks outwards at the beach - clearly lost in thought. when he hears footsteps, though, he glances backwards... and despite the situation, there's a small, soft smile on his face in greeting as he dips his head, as polite as ever.]
Richie... [ how do you even start beyond god damn things really do be happening ] What an awful turn of events.
[Catching up with him in the void some hour or so post-trial. He's not great but he's probably in better shape than a lot of folks. Which is why he'll pull to a stop when he spots that dazzling head of silver-white hair, dropping a hand on his shoulder on sight.]
Hey — I was looking for you. You hanging in there all right?
[ taair is sitting somewhere outside! there's a bird in his lap. it's so fine. he looks up, this time startled - and despite it all, there's a soft, small smile. ]
I'm alright - though in the face of our situation, the word feels a bit flimsy. [ he will reach to pat the spot beside him. ] Come, sit. What about you?
[ taair's eyes are so big and sparkly that he looks as excited as a kid in a candy store. the week's effects also mean there's a pair of blue wings on his back, all puffed up in delight! and when he opens his mouth to say something what comes out is - ]
no im kidding - at the sight of him, taair, who was more or less just kind of staring out of a window, almost stumbles in the speed at which he gets up. he's got a few flowers sticking off of him under bandages here and there still, but he is back to 100% fleshy twink. ]
You think we ought to start bringing a barf bag to these things? I swear to god, even if I wasn't roadkill the stress is gonna make me upchuck everything I ate this week.
Yes! I talked to Ramiel about it and she suggested trying to post something publicly to see if we could get any response or another call. So it wasn't just me... I wonder who else?
[SISI I AM SO SORRY I GOT WAYLAID AND LOST TRACK OF TIME
lays this down...Richie will be hunting for Taair, wherever he may be. Grateful that he was much less bloodied than the last few schmucks, but worried just the same.]
[ YOU'RE SO VALID ITS OK i backtag slowly forever....... anything for my plumbobs
anyway taair is in the hospital, thankfully, though he looks mostly okay! he's dressed more casually than usual, and is holding an ice pack on the top of his head.
seeing richie puts a soft smile on his very tired face, immediately. ]
Precious few of these trips result in a popcorn flick. Some are horrific. Some are too cutting to look a guy in the eye after. A very rare few are simply sentimental.
This one, he wonders if he shouldn't see coming. After the last week. The moments he saw Taair in a crown. The moments in the execution, his body being puppeted by a woman with limitless means. His love of simplicity and people, recording all.
Jesus. If he grew his hair out long enough he could play fucking Rapunzel. Little prince in a tall tall tower, except the fairy tale is more boots to the ground. Is that all he has to look forward to, if he makes it back home?
The memory closes, and Richie is, uncharacteristically, silent. His gaze lingers on the glass, jaw tight and breathing slow, barely breathing at all. Finally, he looks to the other man.]
Taair... [He starts, and then flounders all over again.]
[ hi!!! void. there's no small sense of relief on taair to see his fellow plumbob out and about today, but he looks... worried, brows knit together as he comes hurrying over to greet him. ]
I need to show you something... it's a bit - well, I just would like to show you.
well, this is. familiar. but it's like, nice familiar because it is so weird and made of candy... ]
... I suppose it would be extremely impolite to taste-test the furniture.
[ he says to richie while they're standing in the palace lobby. this is a joke - his emotions are wafting somewhere between amused and curious, but there's also something a little bittersweet, underneath. ]
[Richie has been frowning, poking at a bit of well crafted moulding on the wall in awe. Exactly as Taari mentions his valid concern, an ornate leaf cracks off into his hands.]
[ remember when the world was fun and we were signing karaoke
it's friday morning and it's a hateful one. taair is sitting somewhere as is his customary with his sketchbook in his lap, graphite moving over paper, but even he has a tired weight about him from this one. there's also the bird from before that was hiding in his sweater now sitting on his shoulder - a white dove.
it cooes softly, and he looks up, then softens as he sees richie for a small, sad smile. ]
Oh, my dear friend... another Friday dawns. [ :( this one blows ] How are you holding up?
[ you will never ever guess where taair is on this fine monday
it's the academy. yeah, of course it is. he's sitting at a table in one of the classrooms, nose buried deep in a thick magical tome, other hand absently writing as he reads. his thoughts are more visual than you might expect - richie gets to see him visualizing the components of a spell and comparing it to his own, almost like he is imagining himself utilizing the forms of casting in this place.
his magic was not too different in the military camp all those weeks ago than it is normally - in his thoughts, a bird made of light that flutters around his head, dropping feathers, adjusting as he moves one hand absently in the air. his thoughts form into words around it, elegant scripted writing that falls away like the feathers.
"Witches invoke magic through the use of gestures, incantations, enchanted objects, potions, and elixirs. Witches require extensive education and training in order to master the system, allowing them to use magic effectively and safely." What a wonderful concept...
someone keeps getting spoiled by locations every week actually! hello ]
[ yay! endgame!!! also i have a half written tag for you sitting on my laptop from before today LOL
taair is up at the lighthouse on this final day, sitting with his arms on the railing and staring out into the ocean. his emotions are kind of a mess even from a distance - there's this awful melancholy and resignation that floats over his shoulders like a cloud, but his expression is passive, thoughtful.
when he hears footsteps he glances over, though, and smiles, and all that vanishes. richie knows him well enough the vibe is Bad bad but he's trying very hard not to show it.]
weekend 0, saturday
by which i mean, taair (who is no longer sexy) is holding a bottled soda of some kind in one hand. he's reading the label, examining it with all the curiosity you might expect, before he nods to himself.
and richie gets to see just as taair turns his hand to open the bottlecap, all the carbonation fizzes and it starts to go all over the place. ]
-- Ah! [ AH ] Oh, no -- !
[ help please ]
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Who is not Richie I am sorry to say, he's holding out for Christie Brinkley. He'd stand a better chance with her now than yesterday, clad in sensible clothes. Bomber jacket over a button up and slick jeans, real casual stuff but a cut above department store fare.
Which makes it quite urgent to stop the eruptions of Mount Pepsi. Richie darts in, clasping a hand hard over the mouth of the bottle and yanking it out and away from Taair's clothes. The soda keeps fizzing, but now it's pathetic dribbling down the side of the bottle.]
...Don't worry. Lots of guys go off prematurely.
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week 0, tuesday
he's got a book spread open in his lap, and occasionally writes something in it. he also, occasionally, tosses a piece of some kind of food (pizza...?) to a seagull nearby that's cozying up next to his hip.
he doesn't seem to have noticed that he has company yet! or if he does, he's not really paying attention. ]
help i missed your note at the top I REALLY LIKE THEM TOO! CRUSHES HIM IN MY HANDS
That your diary?
[So, cheap shots of a different flavour.]
fhwkrj me!!!! holds richie free of the gutter like doodlebob
no you've removed him from his natural habitat!!!!
good
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week 1 friday
Richie... [ how do you even start beyond god damn things really do be happening ] What an awful turn of events.
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No shit.
[Richie has a bottle of H*nessey with him for the road, which he'll politely offer to Taair on sight.]
Were you trapped somewhere last night too?
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W0 SECOND SATURDAY
Hey — I was looking for you. You hanging in there all right?
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[ taair is sitting somewhere outside! there's a bird in his lap. it's so fine. he looks up, this time startled - and despite it all, there's a soft, small smile. ]
I'm alright - though in the face of our situation, the word feels a bit flimsy. [ he will reach to pat the spot beside him. ] Come, sit. What about you?
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W1 MONDAY
Should we pull up a cot in here for you, Taair?
[NERD]
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♫
[ a little bird cheep of joy ]
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W1 THURSDAY
He probably should NOT be up and about but he manages a bit of a wander before curfew. Meets Taair in the void.]
...Back to yourself, now, huh?
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no im kidding - at the sight of him, taair, who was more or less just kind of staring out of a window, almost stumbles in the speed at which he gets up. he's got a few flowers sticking off of him under bandages here and there still, but he is back to 100% fleshy twink. ]
Richie...! [ AAA ] Your arm...
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W1 SATURDAY
You think we ought to start bringing a barf bag to these things? I swear to god, even if I wasn't roadkill the stress is gonna make me upchuck everything I ate this week.
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if taair knew "mood" he might say it because yeah. he thinks about the library again and shakes his head. urghh. ]
Yes...yes, I agree. I thought the stress would be a bit easier to handle if it happened again... but I was very wrong.
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W2 Wednesday
Got a little voice mail from the great beyond too, did you?
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I talked to Ramiel about it and she suggested trying to post something publicly to see if we could get any response or another call.
So it wasn't just me... I wonder who else?
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W2 SUNDAY
lays this down...Richie will be hunting for Taair, wherever he may be. Grateful that he was much less bloodied than the last few schmucks, but worried just the same.]
Taair? You up?
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anyway taair is in the hospital, thankfully, though he looks mostly okay! he's dressed more casually than usual, and is holding an ice pack on the top of his head.
seeing richie puts a soft smile on his very tired face, immediately. ]
I am. Come in, Richie... please.
week 3 monday
yay reflective surface time. richie gets to see... the bird's final flight. ]
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Precious few of these trips result in a popcorn flick. Some are horrific. Some are too cutting to look a guy in the eye after. A very rare few are simply sentimental.
This one, he wonders if he shouldn't see coming. After the last week. The moments he saw Taair in a crown. The moments in the execution, his body being puppeted by a woman with limitless means. His love of simplicity and people, recording all.
Jesus. If he grew his hair out long enough he could play fucking Rapunzel. Little prince in a tall tall tower, except the fairy tale is more boots to the ground. Is that all he has to look forward to, if he makes it back home?
The memory closes, and Richie is, uncharacteristically, silent. His gaze lingers on the glass, jaw tight and breathing slow, barely breathing at all. Finally, he looks to the other man.]
Taair... [He starts, and then flounders all over again.]
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week 3 friday
[ hi!!! void. there's no small sense of relief on taair to see his fellow plumbob out and about today, but he looks... worried, brows knit together as he comes hurrying over to greet him. ]
I need to show you something... it's a bit - well, I just would like to show you.
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Yeah? What's up?
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week 4, monday
well, this is. familiar. but it's like, nice familiar because it is so weird and made of candy... ]
... I suppose it would be extremely impolite to taste-test the furniture.
[ he says to richie while they're standing in the palace lobby. this is a joke - his emotions are wafting somewhere between amused and curious, but there's also something a little bittersweet, underneath. ]
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...
[Richie shrugs and offers it over.]
Waste not, want not?
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W4 SATURDAY
So even people picking the apples might be under compulsion.
[One of the safer things to talk about right now. Our infinite tragedies...but also this sucks too my fucking god]
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Indeed. [ ugh. ] And one person still has gotten away from us, after everything.
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W5 MONDAY
Well bend me over and fuck me sideways, somewhere sane for once.
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it looks like he is at a loss for words he is so overwhelmed with joy. this is the library all over again ]
My word....
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week 5, friday
it's friday morning and it's a hateful one. taair is sitting somewhere as is his customary with his sketchbook in his lap, graphite moving over paper, but even he has a tired weight about him from this one. there's also the bird from before that was hiding in his sweater now sitting on his shoulder - a white dove.
it cooes softly, and he looks up, then softens as he sees richie for a small, sad smile. ]
Oh, my dear friend... another Friday dawns. [ :( this one blows ] How are you holding up?
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Like a house of cards in a hurricane. What else is new?
[This is a bad one. But he'll come drop beside Taair and company, taking a gander at his newest sketch.]
Who're we commemorating at the moment?
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week 6, mon
it's the academy. yeah, of course it is. he's sitting at a table in one of the classrooms, nose buried deep in a thick magical tome, other hand absently writing as he reads. his thoughts are more visual than you might expect - richie gets to see him visualizing the components of a spell and comparing it to his own, almost like he is imagining himself utilizing the forms of casting in this place.
his magic was not too different in the military camp all those weeks ago than it is normally - in his thoughts, a bird made of light that flutters around his head, dropping feathers, adjusting as he moves one hand absently in the air. his thoughts form into words around it, elegant scripted writing that falls away like the feathers.
"Witches invoke magic through the use of gestures, incantations, enchanted objects, potions, and elixirs. Witches require extensive education and training in order to master the system, allowing them to use magic effectively and safely." What a wonderful concept...
someone keeps getting spoiled by locations every week actually! hello ]
W6 THURSDAY
it's fucking cold in here]
...They weren't really with us. Adolphe and Hawke. Were they?
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... I think... it is very possible they were. Miss Neverah was there with Lucas, when he was taken... and they were both very, very sure it was her.
[ saying her name makes his heart ache, actually, because he got her killed! again! but he's not thinking about it, swallowing hard. ]
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cw: dead children, spiders, amputation
w7 saturday
taair is up at the lighthouse on this final day, sitting with his arms on the railing and staring out into the ocean. his emotions are kind of a mess even from a distance - there's this awful melancholy and resignation that floats over his shoulders like a cloud, but his expression is passive, thoughtful.
when he hears footsteps he glances over, though, and smiles, and all that vanishes. richie knows him well enough the vibe is Bad bad but he's trying very hard not to show it.]
Hello, my friend.
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I can't believe you're gonna make him climb stairs. He does it FOR YOU Taair.]
Howdy doody, pardner.
[He comes on in. Oh yes, the vibes are bad, but we're all trying our best here. Slipping in beside him and sliding an arm around his shoulders.]
Please tell me you're gonna wiggle your timeline around a little.
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