aceofbrains

[aceofbrains]

𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐀 & 𝐃𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍​:

Mx. Graves-Seong was not a formality that tended to stir any exceeding thrills for the astronomer and eventual doctor of the sciences himself, yet, the familiar voice was sufficient in his cheeks warming until he thought they would resemble the hot pink highlights in his hair if he didn’t firmly fixate on the elephant for a moment longer. Round cheeks puffed up with an inhale, letting it out and smiling, albeit the chipper student was far from composed. The silly crush was juvenile, honestly, and an ingredient for mischievous banter between he and his spouse as he was sure he’d been overwhelmed to the point of tears after he’d regained braincells per his recovery several years ago to know that his attending doctor’s resident was practically a living, breathing Anakin Skywalker — aaand it didn’t improve in time, now that Sacha had taken his attending’s place. ( A loyal partner, but still pathetically pansexual. ) “Hiya, doc,” he grinned, all gummy smiles and bright coffee eyes when he was imbued in an environment that was comfortable and emanated security for him. He couldn’t say the same for his time living in downtown Paris, and shyly adapting to the city slickers’ disdain of small talk. When he lived in small-town West Virginia, bantam conversation and unsolicited discussions were practically the norm; like everything in life, there were many innate parts of Dustin that he’d had to shrink and smother down into tiny fragments and tacitly mourn the death of his authenticity. “Me? Oh, I thrive here. I wouldn’t miss it. But you — I’m kind of surprised. How’s the carnival treatin’ ya?” The southern twang went unchecked under the circus tent’s vibrant stripes, and he tucked the package away into his pocket. “You got it. Hop over. Stuff in your pockets? She’s a troublemaker, so let’s see ‘em.” Sliding off the post on the side of the enclosure where Vera was standing, he waved a hand for the neurosurgeon, jesting, “Come on, big daddy, I know you work out.”

It appeared to have developed shortly after he departed from his graduating class of high school — gazes would linger on his athletically inclined fit (that he’d scarcely used in favor of any school-hosted sports, forfeiting them for the noble chess club) and impish smirks would arise on the corners of those who gave him a proper once over, if not that then an evident shift in their temperature as their faces would flush either a pasty white or a maroon that Sacha didn’t think twice to deconstruct beyond a medical perspective. His nature was not that of a vainglorious philanderer, so most if not every passive sign that he was in particular to be observed and admired went unnoticed by the surgeon. Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise. His ego was inflated enough due in part to his skills in the operating room, and a boost involving his appearance that he, admittedly, did put a considerable amount of effort into upon waking, would likely prove detrimental to his imperturbable demeanor. “It’s quite the spectacle. I can’t say I love it any more than I do the inside of an OR, but I’m sure we differ there a reasonable amount,” A warmhearted and husked chuckle left his lips as he peered up at the giant creature. “A troublemaker? Those are my favorite. Here, for the ride, and for all those times I cut into you,” His slender fingers, crafted by the Universe for the singular use of articulating with a scalpel, it seemed, fished through his pockets and unearthed a leather wallet and two loose euros that went unnoticed, grasping gently onto Dustin’s smaller wrist and opening his palm so that he could place the coins flat on the surface. “Alright, alright. Suppose there’s no going back now.” Grinning, he followed after his patient’s gesture, not thinking twice about the salacious presentation of even the simplest of expressions he made.

[aceofbrains]

What is something you've missed out on as a surgeon that makes you feel empty?

“I guess the most obvious answer would be a family. I go home alone whenever I do manage to leave the hospital, and I like the quiet, but... I wonder what it’d be like sometimes to have people waiting for me.”

[aceofbrains]

growing heart, snowflake, wrench

💗 GROWING HEART - if they have a crush, is it noticable? what changes when they’re in love?

“Well, I don’t think I’ve had a crush in years. Maybe — when I was still a student. There was a girl in my class, Noémie. I think I tried to ask her out once and she thought I was having a stroke. So I suppose my entire frontal lobe changes whenever I’m in love.”

❄️ SNOWFLAKE - do people consider them cold? if so, what made them this way?

 “... Cold’s harsh. I can see why they’d think that, though. I’m a surgeon, we aren’t exactly well-renowned for our hospitality. All we want to do is cut. But if I had to blame someone, I guess it’d be my mother. I was always told we were just alike, but I admired that about her. She wasn’t cold, either. She was focused.”

🔧 WRENCH - are they good at fixing relationships? or do they tend to avoid doing so?

“Considering most of the men in my family have fallen victim to some curse that dooms every relationship they have, I’d say no. And I can vouch for myself as well. I’ve let far too many people escape from my life. But I’ve learned to move on rather than try and fix what’s beyond repair.”

[aceofbrains]

🍧 😨 🎁

🍧 SHAVED ICE - do they still have any objects from their childhood? what significance does it have to them? what would their reaction be if they lost it?

“In fact, I do. I used to keep the notes my mother wrote for me in my lunchboxes. They were in this scrapbook that I’m almost certain was supposed to be for my brother’s Pokémon cards — anyway, they’re all I have left of her, so if I misplaced them... I suppose I’d have to grieve all over again.”

😨 FEARFUL - when scared, do they go into “flight” or “fight”?

“... Flight, I think. At least, that’s how it was when I was younger. But I don’t think that much has changed between now and then.”

🎁 PRESENT - what types of presents would they be most happy to receive? are they good at gift giving?

“I’m not really too finicky when it comes to gifts. A card would suffice, honestly, or maybe something homemade. Wow, I sound like my father. He was good at gift giving. I’ve always had trouble with it.”

[aceofbrains]

Acting as the attending neurosurgeon at the regional hospital would be a taxing gig for anyone — fortunately, Sacha had his mother’s genes which engineered him to withstand the long, grueling hours and still have enough life force to spare once his shift ended. He’d heard word of the carnival in the attending’s lounge at first, where he caught wind of most of Paris’ comings and goings considering he practically took up residence solely at the hospital. His poor, terribly expensive townhouse. Virtually untouched since he purchased it after receiving his first check post-promotion, although that may have just been the interior design keeping him from settling. He’d need to hire some expert so he didn’t feel as if he were a Gothic-aged vampire dwelling in his centuries old manor. Spending a night at the carnival gave him one more excuse to avoid returning home alone, and while he had never succeeded much in acting extroverted, it was difficult not to strike up casual and lighthearted conversation while partaking in the mindless games and losing at all of them. Perhaps it was the long day of clipping aneurysms that stiffened his arm, or perhaps he was simply only made for the OR. Regardless, he was enjoying what he hadn’t anticipated would derive as much joy from him as it did. Oxfords padded across the ground, approaching the enclosure cautiously, his final destination before mournfully taking the metro home and catching up on the sleep he’d missed out on over the past forty-four hours. “I always did hear they were gentle giants. Salut, Miss Vera,” A chuckle parted from his lips as cerulean hues flickered over so they fixated on the familiar figure. “Mr. Graves-Seong, it’s good to see you out tonight. And offering everyone free rides.” It was a treat to see his patients outside the confines of the sterile rooms he operated on them in; living their lives, proving that all his work was as true as it had been hard-fought. “I’m not sure I’d be one to turn you down, either.”

@terminastarters​​ ; [ before the blackout. ]

Dustin was inevitably drawn to the circus when his partner ushered off to the restroom to sate the baby squashing their bladder with its watermelon-sized little body, and he’d promised not to stray too far. Not that he would — the sights were as mesmeric as when he was young, with eyes brighter than stars yet to be imploded in the wake of harsh tribulations. Beyond the lights, colorful tents and caravans, it was the elephants who drew him in enigmatically, for many reasons. Reminiscing on old times, sure, but there was an ascertained comfort that the branching circus company had placed roots of permanence in a carney amid Paris — the news passed along by a couple old circus pals that they were transferring a handful of those beauteous creatures blessed with longevity to Paris. When he was younger, seeing the Eiffel Tower and Europe was all a part of the traveling company. Times changed, he supposed. Others didn’t, as his hand ran across the majestic trunk of the elephant where he’d perched himself on the fencing of the dreary and suffocating ring they always set up for the kiddie rides ( and hoping to the universe one of his atonic seizures didn’t butt in and fling him off the post ). “Remember me, chica? I brought something for you — you still like these?” Crooked fingers sifted to unwrap one of the fried peanut butter cups, a snicker elicited when the offering was swept over with the creature’s trunk and lifted out of his hand. His laced boots braced against the post, looking over when his in-tact peripheral vision in his right eye caught the movement of someone. “She’s friendly — if you’re curious. I told the handler I’d watch her ‘til after the magic act, so I won’t charge if you don’t tell,” he smiled wryly as he spoke, running his palm over the elephant’s chin delicately, “This is Vera. Say hi, V.” Dustin whistled effortlessly, the certain pitch of it signaling the elephant to lift a foot and flap her ears. “I remember when she was born. So I gotta spoil her a lil’ bit. Don’t tell anyone I’m givin’ her chocolate, and I could probably get you up on her back for a few minutes.”

[aceofbrains]

hayden christensen. thirty-one. cis male. he/him. demisexual & capricorn. ☾ﾟ is that sacha mercer behind the mask? whenever i see the neurosurgeon at paris regional hospital in pigalle, i think of no surprises by radiohead. rumor has it they are individualistic & disciplined, but neurotic & sanctimonious can be their fatal flaws. what their neighbors in paris call them is the prodigy.

full bio is here.

♥ ˚⊹ BASIC INFORMATION

FULL NAME: Sacha Brooks Mercer. NICKNAME(S): Sash. PREFERRED NAME(S): Sacha. BIRTH DATE: January 17th. AGE: 31. ZODIAC: Capricorn. GENDER: Cis male. PRONOUNS: He/Him. ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Demiromantic. SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Demisexual. LIVING CONDITIONS: Townhouse in Paris.

♥ ˚⊹ BACKGROUND

PLACE OF BIRTH: Summerlin, Nevada. HOMETOWN: Paris, France. EDUCATION LEVEL: PhD in Neuroscience. FATHER: Adrien Mercer (deceased as of 2004). MOTHER: Sydney Coolidge (whereabouts unknown). SIBLING(S): Lionel Mercer, 25. CHILDREN: None.

♥ ˚⊹ OCCUPATION & INCOME

PRIMARY SOURCE OF INCOME: Attending neurosurgeon. SECONDARY SOURCE OF INCOME: None. CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB (OR LACK THERE OF)?: He loves it more than anything else. SPENDING HABITS: Essentials. MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION: Old notes his mother would write in his lunchbox for school.

♥ ˚⊹ PHYSICAL APPEARANCE & CHARACTERISTICS

FACE CLAIM: Hayden Christensen. EYE COLOR: Blue. HAIR COLOR: Blond. HEIGHT: 6′0. WEIGHT: 155lbs. BUILD: Average. TATTOOS: N/A. PIERCINGS: N/A. MARKS/SCARS: N/A. NOTABLE FEATURES: N/A. USUAL EXPRESSION: Annoyed. CLOTHING STYLE: Casual daywear; sweaters, slacks, boots, and a wristwatch. JEWELRY: None. ALLERGIES: None. PHYSICAL AILMENTS: N/A.

♥ ˚⊹ PSYCHOLOGY

JUNG TYPE: INTJ. ENNEAGRAM TYPE: 1 [Reformer] MORAL ALIGNMENT: Lawful Good. TEMPERAMENT: Melancholic. MENTAL CONDITIONS/DISORDERS: N/A. OBSESSION(S): Work, keeping his little brother in line. ADDICTION(S): N/A. DRUG USE: N/A. ALCOHOL USE: Drinks occasionally. PRONE TO VIOLENCE?: No.

♥ ˚⊹ MANNERISMS

SPEECH STYLE: Casual. ACCENT: American. HOBBIES: Biking & Cooking. HABITS: Flipping coins to make a decision, stepping over cracks in the sidewalk, clocking in five minutes early. NERVOUS TICKS: Chewing on inner cheeks until they bleed, tapping any surface, pacing, running hands through his hair. POSITIVE TRAITS: Sympathetic, Hardworking, Brilliant, & Self-reliant. NEGATIVE TRAITS: Awkward, Dissonant, Presumptuous, & Repressed. SENSE OF HUMOR: N/A.

♥ ˚⊹ FAVORITES

ACTIVITY: Biking around town. ANIMAL: Dog. BEVERAGE: Black coffee. COLOR: Green. FOOD: Soupe à l'oignon. BOOK: Dragonlance series. FLOWER: N/A. GEM: N/A. HOLIDAY: Christmas. MOVIE: The Imitation Game. MODE OF TRANSPORTATION: Bike. SCENERY: Sunrises over hills. SCENT: Fresh linen. SPORT: Soccer. WEATHER: Springtime. VACATION DESTINATION: Freetown, Sierra Leone.

[aceofbrains]

Hayden Christensen as Stephen Glass Shattered Glass (2003) dir. Billy Ray