#☆ evt. sinners & saints [valentines 2024]

[cjwelford-archive]

→ sinners & saints event, the peak seasons hotel, february 17th 2024. closed for @leilabarak ∟ prompt ‘lovebirds’

CJ had a pleasant buzz going for him. He was drunk enough to be able to feel like he was floating through the crowd, but not to the point where he wasn't aware of himself. He was also aware that it was very hot in this ballroom, and decided to step out for air. Whilst there was probably some sort of garden or balcony area, once he left the event area, then the front lobby, then the parking lot, he found himself in the alley by the hotel.

Coincidentally, someone else was also there. Staring at something on the ground.

"Yo!" He called out, slowly approaching her on the off-chance she was a murderer. CJ then glanced down, seeing it was like...an animal on the ground. A bird maybe? He let out a gasp, quickly glancing around to see if anyone was around, like witnesses maybe. "Dude, did you kill that bird?"

[rcmandaniels-archive]

→ sinners & saints event, the peak seasons hotel, february 17th 2024. closed for @theaxharris

There was a pleasant group of people Ophelia had seemed to know, that she introduced Roman to, who all seemed nice, even if this was how they were celebrating Valentine’s Day. He had wondered aloud who would come up with this idea, finding out it was a joint effort between the owner of Holy Spirits and Condom Sense, two establishments he wasn’t overly familiar with, but had heard of at least. And at some point, a member of the temporary friendship group had called over Roman from when he had been separated from them briefly to fetch a drink, standing next to a woman he was introduced to as Thea, the owner of Holy Spirits. “Ah, nice to meet you. I was curious as to who the brainchild of this event was.” He said in greeting, holding out his hand. “Roman Daniels.” 

[rcmandaniels-archive]

There had to be something clinically wrong withRoman that he deflated when Elijah didn’t take the bait, when his white knuckles loosened and he wasn’t going to swing. He had a thousand more barbs and insults to hurl at the keyboardist, anything from low-hanging fruit to deep cuts, to see what would stick. To see if Roman’s desired outcome would come true.

And why…why was he so fixated on it? Was it to ensure that his vision of Elijah Falvey being the bad guy stuck? That everyone else could see what a fucking snake the man before him was? Or was it, deep down, because he dredged up parts of his grief he never dealt with. The guilt, the train of thought he was sure Elijah shared if he ever fucking bothered to ask. If someone else got into that van last, Harry would still be here today. 

Did Roman want Elijah to punch his lights out as a way to alone for his own survival?

The radio host swallowed that down, a true tough pill indeed. No. He wanted him to do it to prove that, unlike the last five years, he wasn’t a fucking coward. 

“You’re right. I don’t know you.” What was unsaid hung heavy in the air. Who’s fault was that, after all? The two people who should have known each other inside out, who spent months on end with each other; nothing but virtual strangers now. A fucking guest character in the stories they could bear to share of those times. 

Roman held up his arms in mock surrender, all bravado. He couldn’t hit even if he wanted to, and he did indeed. Wanted to beat Elijah bloody, until the cavity in his chest felt full. Until he felt like it would bring back Harrison.

“Fucking off, your liege.” He promised him, backing away from Elijah, back to the hotel. If only to tell Ophelia he was heading home anyway. As he stepped at the doors, he turned back, sneering at his former bandmate. “The only choice I’ve ever judged you for, mate, was abandoning the rest of us. Let’s fucking hope your little girlfriend will never know how that feels.” And, without giving the other man a chance to reply, stepped inside. 

The End.

☆ @elifalvey

You’ve always been a pretender.

Every syllable of Roman’s words were sharp, weaponized, and they caused the knuckles on Elijah’s left fist — the one that hadn’t been delicately dangling a cigarette in the air — to whiten, fingers involuntarily curling in anger that threatened to seep out of him in a way much more damaging than words. God, he wanted to wipe the smug little smile clean off the former bassist’s face (and fuck’s sake, it might have been incredibly vindicating to take one dirty swing and do just that), but he wouldn’t. No, couldn’t.

Because right then and there, his own deep brown eyes staring into Roman’s cold and unforgiving ones, he decided that he would, completely uncaring towards all the reasons why it’d be incredibly wrong to do so. For that comment alone, not even taking into consideration the overflowing pile of petty jabs and one-liners he’d been the recipient of over the course of the last twenty-three years, he decided that it was indisputably deserved.

However, contrary to the fact that he hadn’t moved to leave (or back up, at the very least), Elijah actually wanted to have a decent rest of his night. For once, he didn’t want something that Roman Daniels said to take up residence in the back of his mind, where all of his other doubts and insecurities made themselves at home. Surprisingly, it outweighed his desire to punch him — and if he thought about it further than that, as well, he knew that Aslihan wouldn’t have been too happy with him either, another catalyst for why he took a rationalizing breath instead. Loosening his grip, he sneered, “You don't know me anymore.”

It was the closest he’d ever come to admitting that Roman was right, in a sense. Elijah was a pretender. Pretending had been what had gotten him through the majority of their Amethyst years, what had kept him sane when Harrison showed up with girlfriend after girlfriend on his arm, and ultimately what had led him to make the conscious decision to leave. He was even pretending now, pretending that he hadn’t gotten so riled up a mere two seconds ago.

He hated that he was so translucent, that no matter what personal growth he’d gone through in the time they’d been apart, Roman could still pinpoint the precise nerve to pinch.

“Oh, fuck off!” Deflection. Classic, easy — predictable, but effective in their stupid game of back and forth. “You know you're miserable. And if you're content with being a miserable, desperate little prick your whole life — judging me for every Goddamn choice I've ever made — then maybe you've got bigger issues, mate. Look at yourself. Worry about that.”

He took another drag, frustrated that something as simple as that could be ruined, though he didn't move. Instead, he shook his head and demanded, “Get the fuck away from me.”

( @rcmandaniels )

[rcmandaniels-archive]

→ sinners & saints event, the peak seasons hotel, february 17th 2024. closed for @emelinecormier

Roman knew, he fucking knew, that the minute they had entered this party, Ophelia would find a reason to bail him. He only agreed to come because she pointed out he’d be home all alone when everyone who was anyone was at this Valentine’s party, including his radio co-workers. When he had pointed out, due to the theme, he really didn’t want to see his co-workers, his sister told him to grow up. So here he was, tucked into the corner, watching the revelers in various states of undress, drinking and dancing and having fun, unlike him. “Is this something…common in this town?” He asked someone in earshot, though not looking at them, giving them an opportunity to simply walk away.

[rcmandaniels-archive]

→ sinners & saints event, the peak seasons hotel, february 17th 2024. closed for @zeynepxturkmen

It had taken a better part of fifteen minutes for Roman to actually believe that this event had some sort of freebie arrangement hosted by the sex shop. At first, he thought the conversation had been some sort of joke, then as they continued to insist upon it, the bassist thought Ophelia had paid them to set him up somehow, just to see her brother get potentially riled up with such a silly subject matter. “But surely that’s just —,” Roman shook his head, making a slightly dramatic step back, almost trodding on someone’s toes. “Sorry,” He turned to apologise to her, “Just…the conversation about the alleged…gifts, that Condom Sense is providing got a bit enthusiastic. But surely it’s all bollocks right?” He was now addressing the stranger he almost stood on, wanting to hear what she had to say about it all.

[cjwelford-archive]

→ sinners & saints event, the peak seasons hotel, february 17th 2024. closed for @verdadurmaz

The angel wings were sick, CJ couldn’t deny that. However, he had a lack of spatial awareness when sober, nevermind now, after he pre-gamed on his way over here, to the point where he was pleasantly buzzed. His wings had knocked into a variety of people, who didn’t seem to mind too much, his latest victim being none other than Verda Durmaz. “Yo, I’m so sorry! It’s nice to see you though!” He exclaimed, a bright smile on his face. “Are you and Emmy matching tonight? I’ve seen like, a tonne of sexy angels and devils, and like…nuns and priests and stuff.” 

[cjwelford-archive]

He hoped Vegas was like this, all vibes and the opportunity to stock up on the essentials like those fancy hand soaps that looked like cupcakes and pens with hotel names on it. Regardless, he was with Seb, whatever happened would be a fucking blast. 

The minute they were alone, CJ buckled over, laughing hard to the point there were tears in his eyes. “I wasn’t — I wasn’t —,” He began to wheeze out, looking up at Seb with a smile, “I wasn’t looking at you like anything, dude. Like, it was their fault!” But good on them, he supposed, getting some action on Valentine’s weekend. 

He let Seb manhandle him, kinda liked it if he was being honest, pulling them out of what he was now christening the Sex Elevator, letting out a low whistle at the labyrinth of corridors facing them. Then Seb challenged him, and the part of CJ that was just vibes flew out of the window, replaced by the CJ who wanted to win. “You’re so on, dude! I made cardio my bitch!”

And, without further word, he set off, maybe just giving Seb a little bit of a shove to give himself a head start.

☆ @sebvora

“Exactly! Definitely not, man. And like, even if they didn’t want us to take 'em — they’re loaded with it anyway, who cares?” Sebastian leveled with enthusiasm, making a mental note to stake out any housekeeping carts on the walk to their room. Maybe they could take a few extra towels as well, and some of the fancy lotion that would probably make his skin feel super soft. Between him and CJ, there were four arms and seemingly endless possibilities, and he was overjoyed that the both of them were on the same page to make this all happen. He would’ve had fun regardless, retreating back to their apartment and throwing on Fast Five in one of their own rooms, but this was infinitely cooler. And like a small glimpse into their upcoming Vegas experience, if he really thought about it. They were bound to stay in a dope hotel there, too, right?

Before he could dive too deeply into his thoughts, the elevator doors opened up and he followed closely behind CJ. He hadn’t paid too much attention to the dropped keycard at first, his hands instinctively reaching forward to steady his roommate as he stumbled over his own feet, but the blur of the item as it fell through the air caught his eye and he had to stifle his own laughter as he realized what had happened.

He probably should’ve been upset, considering ‘losing a keycard’ was one of the bullet points that would rack up an extra fine on his credit card — but since he hadn’t read any of that mumbo jumbo anyway, he didn’t care in the slightest. They could just use his.

Catching CJ’s attention across the couple that shuffled in after them, Seb had to physically look away to prevent himself from giggling. Although he was sure it wouldn’t have been as funny had CJ not been holding in his own giggles, had they not made eye contact with one another. Thankfully their floor was much lower than the eleventh, so he didn’t wind up torturing himself for long — once the elevator doors shut, leaving just the pair of them alone, he officially couldn’t contain it. “Dude!” He looked at CJ once more, putting a hand on his shoulder to steady himself as he laughed. “You can’t look at me like that! I almost spit all in their faces, I swear to God!”

The ding of their desired floor pulled him out of his amusement and he straightened up. “Okay, okay, okay — let’s go. 152. Keep your eye out for bubble bath.” He grabbed onto CJ’s arm again, urging him out of the elevator behind him. Once they stepped out into the open hallway, Seb looked in both directions and said, “Bro, this place is so huge. We should definitely race. In the spirit of watching Fast Five, you know? I bet I'm faster than you!” It was a horrible idea. Somehow worse than stealing from the place, what with their inebriation. However, to him, it was the best one in the world; he couldn't see a huge, straight path and not want to run down it.

( @cjwelford )

[cjwelford-archive]

→ cj_welford just posted a photo [saturday 17th february 2024; 7.40pm]

[rcmandaniels-archive]

→ roman.numerals just posted a photo [sunday 18th february 2024; 9.27am]

[cjwelford-archive]

It all happened so suddenly. One minute, the owl was dead. Next, it was coming straight for them, and CJ saw his own life flash before his eyes. He was unsure who dragged who out of the alleyway, only knowing that his and Leila’s combined screams reverberated down the narrow space, though would be drowned out from the sounds of the party in the hotel. In fact, CJ didn’t relax until they were once again in the foyer, breathless and visibly distressed, much to the bewilderment of a couple of loiterers who probably thought the two had been up to other activities that weren’t owl related. “I can’t believe I’m about to be canceled by the owl community, should have known better than to wake a sleeping owl!” He bemoaned, once he caught his breath, because like lions, clearly owls weren’t to be messed with after nap time. He straightened up, nodding over to a corner with some plush looking couches placed, as if a waiting area of some kind. “I’m gonna camp out over there, they’re like nock-tunnel so, if I stay here until the sun comes up, it won’t be out there wanting to peck out faces off.” Or was that vampire bats? At this rate, to CJ, they were interchangeable creatures.

☆ @leilabarak

Following instructions, Leila shined the light over towards the ground, helping CJ locate something good enough to prod at the bird with. The umbrella seemed like a perfectly reasonable option, Leila giving a nod as CJ shrugged and grabbed it. Neck craning towards it, Leila put herself somewhere she could watch, leaning in closer as the umbrella inched closer, gently prodding the owl. For a moment, it felt like nothing was happening, and then everything erupted into chaos. CJ was screaming, the owl was rustling, and Leila felt herself being pulled with CJ out of the way. Screaming herself, Leila turned to see the owl's wings flaring out, angry eyes charging right in their direction. Yelling again, Leila grabbed at CJ, pulling him as she tried to scramble up to start running. "It's mad, it's mad, it's mad!" she chanted, now focused on getting them both as far away from the owl as they could. "I think it was napping."

@cjwelford

[rcmandaniels-archive]

“I feel like it’d be more fussy to be in possession of a cow, unless you’re a farmer.” Roman mused, and the conversation was verging on a bit too silly, so he decided to focus on the other facts offered in this hypothetical. “You have a restaurant? Which one?” The landscape hadn’t changed too much since his university days, but there was a plethora of new shops and eateries Roman hadn’t had a chance to fully explore since coming back to town. “So you reconnect with an old girlfriend, get married, and not live together. And can’t even decide where to live?” Roman held up his half-empty cocktail glass, saluting it sarcastically. “Best of luck to you both, truly.” 

He wanted to ask what was even the point of making it official, going through the fuss of obtaining a marriage certificate and repeating the vows, if they didn’t even want to live under the same roof, but that seemed personal so he didn’t. However, the nosey part of him was glad that she kept continuing. “I mean, I know people say there’s no set way to do things but I do think society was right on the money when you work out circumstances such as living arrangements before skipping down the aisle.” He shouldn’t judge, but he couldn’t help it. “Must be shit, not having siblings.” As much as Ophelia irritated him, she was there for him the last five years. He had never been lonely. But then again, that was him knowing what it was like to have a sibling, Emmy didn’t know what she was missing out on. “They’re ridiculous, I know they are. I don't usually dress like this.”

☆ @emelinecormier

His clearly caused her grin to rise, venturing into shit-eating territory fairly quickly. Would've she actually followed through in her offer? Maybe over a year ago, when the man sitting across from her was exactly her type and she wasn't committed to following through with a life with another. "Definitely not a cow," Emmy finally offered, a groan of disappointment following. "I think I'd be set for life if it was. You know how much dairy we use at my restaurant? If your answer was a fuck ton, add a 'hell of a' to that." Joking was her natural defense as someone questioned the situation between her and Verda, wondering just how odd it could be to marry someone you didn't live with in the modern age. It was 2024, not 1624 after all. "We weren't really dating beforehand, so no, we weren't living together either. Haven't lived together for most of the first year either. We kind of... have different interests when it comes to where we live."

But she was trying to adjust to Ver's idea of settling and that was what mattered, right? "I just moved in with her, so we're still figuring it out." He hadn't asked for her current life problems, but he kind of did at the same time. Still, Emmy bit her tongue when she felt like she was giving him more information than he cared to listen to. "If I had siblings, that's exactly what I'd feel like they'd be like." Likewise, she didn't have a single sibling to compare his experiences to. Even Tyler, who would likely be the closest thing, couldn't be considered anything near family with their... history. "If it makes you feel better, they're certainly a look."

@rcmandaniels

[rcmandaniels-archive]

For Roman, there was no other way to take it but just as how it was — a basic fact. “No, I guess it’s not a surprising answer.” He was very much the ‘take them as they were’ type of person, after all. The only ‘surprising’ parts of him were kept under lock and key, not meant to be shared to anyone except those who knew him, or at least used to. “Bass, once upon a time.” He decided to share, figuring there was no point in lying, on the off chance he was Googled later, but not necessarily needing to get into the thick of it. “Most people suck when they first try, it’s discipline. You work out? Kind of similar, if you think about it. Training your muscles to work in a certain way.” And of course, now, his muscles were shot. “Well, some people like the attention.” It wasn’t like he was expecting her to tell him to fan away any potential interest he had in her, being slightly too young and not his type. “Not really a romantic type. Honestly, solitude and a good book are all I need to get by.”

☆ @theaxharris

Thea definitely could agree with the radio being a dying art, but she wondered if it was rude to ask if that's why someone liked something. Especially since she only was just meeting the man and so far he seemed to only want to give the minimum of answers. "Gotchya, hope you don't take this the wrong way, but that's the most unsurprising answer." She shared with a small laugh as the small part of her wondered if he would take offense to what she had to say. It wasn't exactly the best place for her to upset people . Thea was pretty sure that anyone who didn't like any music was probably a bit odd, so at least he had that on his side. Though music snobs were just right above it on the annoying scale, so hopefully he wasn't that either. "Nice, did you ever play an instrument or sing? Not that you have to just because you like music. I tried to learn guitar and sucked." She nodded, giving him a small smile at the congratulations, not expecting the kindness. "Thanks, though I promise I didn't just tell you I had a fiancé to make you congratulate me." Thea smiled a little more glad they had found common ground on something. "Yeah? What are you more into if anything?"

@rcmandaniels

[cjwelford-archive]

Immediately regretting offering to be the one to poke the potential owl, CJ let out a deep breath. The sooner he’d get it over with, the sooner he’d be able to go back inside to the party. Looking around the alley, he motioned Leila to direct the flashlight on her phone away from the bird and in the direction of the gloomy darkness, in search of some type of stick. “Yeah, point it at the ground there.” He encouraged her, shimmying away from the maybe-dead-maybe-not-maybe-owl. Noticing a discarded umbrella — all handle and spokes — CJ shrugged, deciding that would do. He picked it up, and gently tapped the owl, violently launching him and Leila out the way with a small scream when it finally, finally began to stir.

☆ @leilabarak

As she wasn't a hundred percent sober, Leila was more than willing to take a step back and let CJ come through for the bird in that moment. He seemed confident enough, the quiver in his voice completely missed by Leila as she nodded firmly along with his words. Her eyes narrowed and she got just a bit closer, trying to determine if, in fact, the bird was an owl. "It - well, it does kind of look like an upside down owl doesn't it?" she mused, now trying to twist her own head in a full 180 to get a better view of the owl. At that angle, it very much looked more like an owl than any other bird. "I think you could poke it and it would be fine. As long as you don't like poke through it?" she shrugged. Birds didn't have a lot to them, they were mostly feathers, but a gentle nudge couldn't hurt.

@cjwelford

[rcmandaniels-archive]

Roman rolled his eyes, though there was no malicious intent to his actions. “Clearly.” He drawled instead, though at least there was assurance in that it was merely a joke between them now. He was however interested in her turn of phrase. “What do you mean after-marriage living situation? Don’t people usually live together before tying the knot? Or are we still living in the regency period? What was your dowry?” Granted, people’s situations could never be truly estimated, but that seemed fairly odd. And then there was the implication that the wife wouldn’t be too happy with a romantic night in a lovely hotel. He supposed he had no reason for the alarm bells to ring, he didn’t know these people after all, but it coloured him as strange.

“Well, people are individuals. Those that act as if they’re conjoined scare me, honestly.” He wondered, back when he was with Chrissy, if he ever acted in that way. But he’d never been an affectionate person, not back then, definitely not now. Life is short, etc., sure, but what he went through just cemented it was important putting you first no matter what. “She likes to find creative ways to torture me, have you any siblings?” If Emmy did, sisters particularly, she’d understand. He chuckled at her rhyme. “That about sums it up, yeah. Also I can’t move in these damn leather trousers I got coerced into, so mingling would be more difficult if I even wanted to.”

☆ @emelinecormier

"Why, are you interested?" She couldn't stop herself from teasing, a grin curving on her lips. Taking advantage of the hotel that night almost caused her to snort in amusement. The Emmy of last year wouldn't have even hesitated in doing so. But this year's Emmy? Honestly, she just felt like spending the night with her wife in the comfort of their own bed instead. She could only imagine just how many people had taken advantage of the hotel rooms being offer. "No, no. We're uh, just a neighborhood over. It probably would've been fun a year or two ago, but it's already been a little weird figuring out the whole after-marriage living situation, so if I tried to book us a room that wasn't the place I'm supposed to be calling home, I'd probably get locked out for the rest of my life." Plus some, she supposed.

"We met when we were barely twenty-one and then had no contact for seven years. We'd be idiots to believe that our lives hadn't progressed on their own in that time." And with that came recognizing that they each had their own separate lives and friendships to take care of. "Plus, I'll get enough of her attention later, don't worry about that." She cast a wink in his direction over the lip of her cocktail glass, downing the rest of the drink in seconds. "Your sister brought you here — that's a new one." Emmy couldn't help the chuckle that fell from her lips. "So you're... single and not willing to mingle?"

@rcmandaniels

[cjwelford-archive]

“Right!” He agreed, momentarily forgetting she was only repeating her words back to him, probably on account of the drugs working in his system. “Just above The Green Dragon Café!” Perhaps it was all the magical props Jeanie had collected over the years that gave the apartment powers or something. Or, more realistically, the  amount of strangers who came through the small space most likely left shit laying around. But the former was more fun, so he’d stick to that. “I’m not, but if the shoe fits…” CJ shrugged, offering her a cheeky grin. “I’mma do another lap, maybe get Seb to get in touch with our guy. If you don’t wanna be a boring married person, come find me in twenty minutes?” Of course, you didn’t need to have drugs to have fun, but he thought he might as well offer. “Either way, good seeing you Ver. Have a nice night.”

The End.

☆ @verdadurmaz

Weird movies were typically her style. It beat lame romance films or poorly placed comedy that missed it's mark. "Weird, but Jacob Elordi can get it," she echoed with pinched brows and a half smile. Maybe she'd check it out to measure his level of weird. Had she not known him, she would have questioned whether or not he was kidding, but she knew that he wasn't. Out of everyone she knew, only CJ would stumble upon a set of wings. "What kind of apartment do you live in again? Does stuff that like usually just... pop up?" The baker tried to imagine something of the sort ending up in her own house, but truth was, whoever had left the mystery wings within CJ's reach had done the world a favor. "You make me sound boring," she exhaled with a quiet chuckle and roll of her dark hues. While he was already well on his way to party heaven, she hadn't even started. "For the record, married people can still take E."

@cjwelford

[rcmandaniels-archive]

He wanted to point out he had zero fans, with the exception of the peculiar café owner who accosted him the other day, and even that wasn’t exactly a fan of him, moreso just basking in the opportunity to wind someone up. But that felt like something negative to say, and what Ophelia would chew him out for, so he just offered a wry smile. “It’s a dying art, I feel. What with music streaming and podcasts. Classic rock, mostly. Sometimes other genres if there’s a theme or an event on.” Like how the buildup to this week, he had been coerced into love songs non-stop. It was tempting to tell Thea that he in fact hated music, why would she make the obvious assumption that working at the station and a record store meant he liked it? But then again, the potential wrath of his sister when she found out how well his mingling had been going wasn’t worth it. “Yeah, always been into it.” He didn’t mention the band. He wouldn’t mention the band. “Fiancé? Congratulations. Sure, it seems a lot of people share that opinion,” He gestured to the crowd around them. “No, not big on flowers or chocolate either.” 

☆ @theaxharris

"Oh no kidding, that's dope, Roman! I'm sure you've got a couple of loyal fans. I will be honest, I don't listen to the radio as often as I used to, but maybe I should flip it on at the speakeasy in the afternoons. What kind of music do you usually play?" Thea asked as she was curious to know if what he was wearing had any indication of what he would play. Sometimes people could surprise with their music taste, but she felt like Roman was a bit of a straight shooter. What you see was what you get. "Ah, yeah? It's been awhile since I've stopped in there. But, I do love a good record sale. So, it's safe to say you're a big music guy?" Thea felt like the fact both of the things he did for work had to do with music felt like a good implication, and she was plenty smart enough to put two and two together, but it helped keep a conversation going when asking questions. "I mean, you've got a point, Roman. But, nice to switch things up every once in awhile, right? Flowers and chocolate are nice and all, but you could still do that and this. Plus my fiancé could attest that I'm not really a huge chocolates and flowers person. "

@rcmandaniels