yourunichase | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

You know, I really fucking hate the way time works here. It fucks up in your head, making it like you've lived twice as long as you have. This time last year I had everything I fucking wanted, and then woke up to an empty shower running and a blood splattered porch and a police investigation. This time last year I was in a fucking hole puking blood because the Master fucking took over a world and crashed the Barge. It's shit like that, the two memories that are the fucking kicker.

I hate April. I hate the time difference. Fuck this, I'm going ashore, Parker you can do whatever the hell your little heart desires.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Parker. Come find me.

We'll go for a walk. Laura'll be okay.

Yeah, yeah, I'm coming. [In a suit.]

I'll be waiting for you, Parker.

Good.

Thanks Paddy-cakes.

[Paddy was waiting for Parker, perched on the edge of a rock, more than worried, and hoping desperately that she made it.]

[Parker had gotten left off the barge a bit away from him, and she was wearing her shades and carrying her jacket and her shoes. Tomorrow she'd have a great fucking burn but for right now this was what she needed.]

[Paddy spotted her coming, and jumped off his rock, then walked towards her, still wearing the trainers he'd bothered to put on for the trip, and wearing a t-shirt instead of his normal button-up shirt.

Instead of calling out to her, he approached her and grabbed her free hand in his,]

C'mon, love.

[Parker smirked slightly at the way he was wearing his trainers on the beach. It amused her, really, cause even fucking she knew to be barefoot on the beach.]

Where are we going?

[Paddy was just very bad at the whole beach thing, to be fair. He trudged along, keeping to the beach, and working around the rocks where he'd been sitting earlier,]

Just along the beach. [There were some quieter rocks and a small cave a little further along,] How are... are you alright?

I fucking hate everything right now, but at least I'm not fucking dying. How are things going with Laura? [Parker was used to water, she'd spent her whole live right next to the ocean, really. It brought her back to memories both good and shit.]

Some random asshole was hitting on me.

[He moved his hand from hers to around her waist,]

Things are goin' alright. She's better at this camping thing than me.

[pause]

Who's this random asshole, and do I have to kick him?

Some new asshole.

[Parker leaned into Paddy quickly, resting her head against his shoulder.]

Thanks for talking me into coming out here.

[He kept walking and held her close to him]

Do I have to put him in his place?

[He paused and shook his head,] Don't thank me, I... I just wanted to make sure you...

There's a quiet little rock over here.

Awww. It's fucking sweet how you think I need help putting someone in their place.

[Her voice was teasing, and she reached over and pulled lightly on his beard, before she moved to the quiet little rock that he'd mentioned.]

Paddy-cakes, why the fuck are you wearing sneakers on the beach?

I just thought I'd offer. I didn't think you needed help.

[He climbed up onto the rock he'd found earlier, which was a little closer to the sea, when the tide was in, so left alone,]

Because I fucking suck at the seaside, and I didn't know where I was goin' or anything. Last time I came in my dress shoes, so this is an improvement.

It was fucking cute.

[It was, having a boyfriend defend her fucking honor and all that shit.]

So take your shoes off bare feet and sand.

[He considered it for a minute, and grimaced,] But then I'll get sand all over my feet, and in between my toes and ew.

What are you, a fucking baby?

[Parker laughed and she squeezed the sand between her toes, relishing how cold it was beneath the warmth of her feet.]

Nah, I just don't like getting sand in things. You never get it out.

[He was just a little bit of a neat freak, under it all, and the idea of sand clinging to his feet just made him cringe.]

I forgot about your fucking OCD, Paddy-cakes.

[Parker laughed, cause she hadn't considered that sand would be as offensive to his fine sensibilities as kitchen clutter is.]

I am not OCD. [He frowned a little,] Maybe a little O, but none of the C and definitely none of the D. I just like... clean and tidy things.

It's the fucking beach, Paddy-cakes it's all about sun and fun and getting sand in unmentionable fucking areas.

Can't we have the first two without the last?

Paddy-cakes, you're one of a fucking kind.

[He laughed and shook his head,] Better than bein' just like everyone else. Wouldn't change it for the fucking world.

[Parker laughed at that, and then she quickly moved her fingers through his hair.]

Damn right you wouldn't. What the fuck would I do without you?

I dunno! Find someone else to tease? {he smirked at her a little, as there was no way he was taking that subject seriously right now.]

God damn, Paddy-cakes, you say that like it's so fucking easy.

Re: SPAM.

christ-onabike.livejournal.com - 2011-04-19 16:59 (UTC) - Expand

Re: SPAM.

yourunichase - 2011-04-19 18:15 (UTC) - Expand

Re: SPAM.

christ-onabike.livejournal.com - 2011-04-19 19:37 (UTC) - Expand

[It takes a while for him to come up with something, because he'd largely been dodging anything related to him being a kid. To them being kids. But he ends up finally sending her a text.]

When you told me about your mother, I imagined her looking a lot like Grace Kelly. Now I imagine her more like Katherine Hepburn. [Meaning, mostly, that her good memories are what inspired him when he thought of her.]

You wanna know what she looks like? Just take a good long look at me.

I wasn't that far off, then.

[Next text.]

You're going to keep other people out of what you had to go through, and that's worth something. You're worth something. So please don't forget that.

(no subject)

private

private

Re: private

private-Spam?

SPAM.

SPAM.

Re: SPAM.

SPAM.

Re: SPAM.

Re: SPAM.

Re: SPAM.

SPAM.

Re: SPAM.

Re: SPAM.

Re: SPAM.

Re: SPAM.

Re: SPAM.

SPAM.

Re: SPAM.

SPAM.

Re: SPAM.

SPAM.

Re: SPAM.

Re: SPAM.

Re: SPAM.

Re: SPAM.

Re: SPAM.

Re: SPAM.

Re: SPAM.

Re: SPAM.

Re: SPAM.

[Private | Text]

[Private | Text]

[Private | Text] Icon is best ever

[Private | Text] Yours or mine?

[Private | Text] Yours

[Private | Text] Thanks.

[Private | Text]

[Private | Text]

[Private | Text]

[Private | Text]

[Private | Text]

[Private | Text]

[Private | Text]

[Private | Text]