#Urca Aquarium and Research Facility

[brooklynislandgirl]

Any thoughts on genital piercings? Do you have any?

A Little Light/A Little Dark || -

And just like that, with an indelicate snort of a laugh, Beth's POG in her nasal passages. Where as she's more of a fan of a gentle saline rinse from a neti pot to the harsh chemicals of most over the counter antihistamines and where as she thinks everyone deserves a little extra vitamin C in their diet, the two things should never be combined, and certainly not with a mixture of pineapple and guava mixed into the orange juice. Silver can't help but laugh, and she's a hundred percent certain that from the corner of her now watery eyes that she's seen some money change hands between little Ben and Jack. Fortunately, none of the actual adults ~Flint, Miranda, Gates~ are having breakfast with their young associates. Once she's taken a good swipe at her face with her napkin and is no longer in danger of choking on or spitting into her acai bowl, she glares at Doctah Manderly beside her. Okay, if he can make her look like an idiot, she can do him one better, and not even Annie will be able to spare him this time with a timely interruption. Not that she faults the Irish Setter. Her person is just….well. She's too polite to even think it in the privacy of her own head. Beth stretches leisurely. Almost catlike. She can almost feel the almost no hair at the back of his neck stand on end because William doesn't like people getting close. Which does make her wonder who managed to talk him into asking her that, and what sort of leverage they used. Meanwhile, she fixes him with a smouldering half-lidded gaze and makes her voice as sultry as she possibly can, the kind of voice indicative of rumpled sheets and lazy kisses the morning after. Not that she expects him to understand that, she's willing to put money on the fact that he's never had an intimate relationship in all of his life. She also partially lies through her teeth; there's something traumatic in just the idea of it, at least on the female body, and the fact that some women don't have enough flesh in certain parts to even try it. There's the risk of contracting an infection or disease. There's the issue with cleaning things properly, and for most people, there's always the risk of dislodging or poking holes in their preferred prophylactics. The biggest draw back though is the potential for nerve damage, which would be counter productive to the whole process. But she does have a piercing he has yet to discover, which is what makes it partially a lie. "Billy, ku'ipo, if you t'ink ya man big enough, you should come try find out yaself. I will say dat yes…I got a piercing way below my ears, but I'm not gonna give it away jus' cause ya aks."

[brooklynislandgirl]

Beth and UARF!Billy - ❤♡❥ღ💕💘💝💓💌💟💙💚💜💛

Heart-Eyes || -

Five A.M.

Beth’s barely awake as she comes into the office, coffee in hand, only to come face to face with the widest grin she has ever seen on Hal Gates’ face. Dark eyes dancing, he relieves her of her thermos cup, takes both her arms in his hands, and swing-dances her around the cramped space where they work.

“We’ve done it, girl!”

Though abjectly confused, Beth can’t help but grin in return. “Wha’ve we done?” She wants to be just as thrilled, wants to share in the old man’s joy. “We’ve got data on white pointer mating! I’m running the compile now, we should be able to parse it and watch the video footage within an hour or two!”

She’s floored.

The shock is clear on her face, even her mouth drops open a little. Often bandied about as the Holy Grail of marine biology, great-white mating is known to exist. Despite decades of research into the habits of the species, that particular bit of knowledge has eluded marine biologists.

“Wha...? How?”

“Mate of mine, Crawford down in New Zealand has taken a fisherman’s eye-witness account on our elusive little friends, and shared video. Crawford sent me all of the data.”

“Oh, Hal.”

Dr Gates nods at her eagerly and once again promenades her around some tables, brushing past a stack of hastily shoved aside folders with charts of migration patterns, weather reports, and feeding data. Then, far more carefully, he hands her into a seat and plops down into an office chair, slapping his knees in pleasure and pride.

“Speaking of mating rituals...”

Beth laughs but blushes at the same time, eyes askance. She suddenly knows what he’s going to ask, or at least of whom.

“...And since we have so little to do until all the research is collated and complied...”

“Must we?”

“No finer time, girl.”

She holds her hands up to stave him off until she gets up, crosses the room and takes a sip of her coffee. Not exactly how she wanted to start the day, but there’s no real reason not to humour her mentor.

“Have at, den.”

“Excellent.” Hal Gates really is an inveterate old gossip.

~*~

❤: who is more affectionate in public? in private?

Beth laughs. Okay, so this isn’t really so bad. “I t’ink I gotta say...I’m more affectionate in public. Mos’ of da time, Doctah Manderly... just doesn’t know what t’ do. Very stiff, hands in his pockets or stand at parade rest.”

The last cocktail party had been a half disaster, between trying to get William to mingle with the public attendees and not leave to check on his seals at first opportunity. The one time he surprised her was when he put a hand on the small of her back though the illusion was broken when she found that the six-foot-six man was trying to ultimately hide behind her. No amount of mock-tails were going to spare him any acute discomfort.

“Probably for da best. No offence, but he’s very definitely...ah....British.”

“None taken.” Hal offers her a wink and taps the side of his nose.

“But even behind close doors? He just... lil uptight, I guess. I sometimes wonder if mebbe he’s worried about havin’ an episode, and some affections are difficult when you have a service dog nearly t’ree-quarters ya size intent on doin’ her job, but I’d say he at least tries when it jus’ da two of us. Fingahs in my hair, brush against my arm. Da kine.”

Hal nods, knowing the specifics without having to drag them out of her.

♡: who is the bigger romantic openly? secretly?

"I t’ink,” she begins, carefully considering this one. “Dat anyone who loves da sea so much dat dey would give up a whole life to dedicate demself to it...got a big romantic soul. What is da ocean, if not love an’ life, an’ all dat we dream of in songs an’ poetry? I only t’ink it’s harder for him to express dat because well..”

She makes a dismissive gesture.

It isn’t that he grasps the concepts of language and expression, they’ve certainly entertained passionate arguments, verbal jousts that have filled the air with sign and countersign.

“Romantically speakin’ I jus’ don’ see him as da type dat I’m gonna find outside my window wi’ an ole boom box, playing In Ya Eyes by Petah Gabriel, ya know? But I also don’t believe he wouldn’t t’ink about it. So secretly? Him. Openly, me.”

❥: who is more likely to plan something big for valentine's day?

“Honestly, Hal...I’d have t’ say him. He’s a planner. Wants every detail to be perfect, will second guess himself a hundred times jus’ to make sure dere no wrinkle in the research. Me? Always been da spontaneous kine, except when it came to really wantin’ to work wit’ you.”

Hal pats her lap, his face soft.

ღ: who is more likely to initiate hand-holding in public?

“Again, it would be William. I don’ know wha’ he’s t’inkin’ a lot of da time, if he’s even aware dat I am dere sometimes. An’ I don’ really wanna make a big deal about it, don’ wanna ovahstep. For me, it’s a much more difficult proposition, is like...touch is where I’m most comfortable, outside of typing endless notes or readin’ data.”

She nods toward the words scrolling along the screen. She fully disclosed her disabilities when she applied for the position so thankfully she doesn’t have to explain now. Most of the other people at the facility don’t even really notice. Except for maybe Ben who sees too much and maybe says too little. That’s to be expected though when you gather a bunch of scientists and stick them in one beautiful place.

“You want him to initiate more, don’t you?”

“I would, yeah. But dere always more important kine and so really guess it nevah really matter.”

💕: who is more likely to make huge declarations of love in front of other people?

“Fair question an’ I guess dat would be me. We...we agreed not to make a big t’ing about any of dis, you know how quirky everyone here is, an’ in case it doesn’t work out, we don’ want da kine t’ get weird. Especially wi’ James an’ Miranda. So if somet’ing like dis were t’ happen it’s probably because he push all my buttons an’ my tempah got da best of me, right? Could see it happenin’ over breakfast. On da beach. Mebbe by da pools.”

Which is why she tries so hard to keep her passions in check. She doesn’t want to blurt out anything that can’t be taken back.

💘: who developed a crush on the other first?

“Couldn’t say,” and in those two words it is the breadth and depth of her honesty. Beth doesn’t have crushes in the same way most people do. She’s never seen anyone and instantly found herself immersed in fantasies, desires, a desperate need to be around them. She might find someone intellectually stimulating and enjoy the conversation. She might notice that something about them calls to her artist’s eye and be aesthetically pleasing in its symmetry, someone might make her laugh but she doesn’t dwell. And by the time there is the first inkling that she might want more out of a situation or relationship, she’s already become close friends. Or she watches as that object of her affection drifts beyond reach and she tells herself she’s happy because they clearly needed something more than she’s even capable of giving.

And sometimes, Beth wonders if she isn’t really broken or damaged in some way. Because she can’t even say she ever had a crush on Billy. She doesn’t know that she can say she has any expectations other than they look good together on paper, and it’s been drilled into her since birth that appearances *do* matter. “Mo’beddah you should ask him.” Gates doesn’t say anything, he only nods.

💝: who spends more time (possibly overthinking) what presents to get the other?

“William. For same-same reasons as Valentines Day, an’ da need for everyt’ing to be as exactin’ as he can make it. Like, how hard and how long it take him to find...or more likely, *breed* dem two purple neocardinas in my office?” Shrimp like the two in her tank, deliriously happy and spoiled and free of predators, are rare in size and colour, and yet… there they are. Then there’s the allegorical evidence of his severe and frothing dislike of mass consumption marketing, the complete commercialisation of every secular and religious holiday, the pastiche of feelings tacked on almost like an afterthought.

💓: who initiates most physical contact?

Beth hesitates. That’s slightly more personal than the other questions so far and truth be told she’s a little ashamed of having to answer without specific parameters. But it is a question, and she did agree to answer them with the same honesty as she offers Hal in all their other work and conversations. “I’ve always done well wi’ sensory input dat was based in kine oddah dan auditory. Smell, taste, seeing… but of alla dem, touch has always been important to me. Textures, near imperceptible data processed t’rough skin. An’ I guess dat I use dat wi’ him. Way to express ideas or sensations dat might not come across ordinarily. Enthusiasm, excitement, humour, rage, disappointment. I wan him to feel an’ understand when I don’ have da words in me, or know how to express. A lot of da time, it’s accidental or at least….subconscious.” A beat goes by. “I don’t believe he really cares much for it.”

💌: who is more likely to send cutesy texts to the other?

This one is hard for her to answer because they aren’t really cutesy text people. Most of their days are too filled with very real world drama, service to the greater good, the understanding and conservation of the most vulnerable environments and animals within. There’s weather, there’s reports, there’s an entire litany of experiences that don’t leave much time to play around until well after hours when they can finally seek well deserved liberty. However, Billy does sometimes send her pictures of the seals doing very cute seal things, or Annie shepherding him and his charges with the boss-vibes of the Queen Mother. In the end she only offers her mentor a smile and a shrug.

💟: who spends time reading their zodiac compatibilities?

“Oh absolutely I do. Find da whole pseudo-science of it fascinatin’, especially when da stars are not in da same position as dey were when it was invented an’ da psychological impact it has on our species is jus’ totally wild, you know?”

Beth knows that she’s the textbook definition of a Cancerian woman, and Billy does a good job providing a counter-argument on being a Libra. Further there’s a bit of an annoyance factor; he thinks junk science ‘belongs in the bottom of the bin with the rest of the rubbish.’ And he has a point, to some extent, even if she doesn’t agree with him. Not everything can be cold facts and numbers. Sometimes a little playfulness was in order and he absolutely needed to be reminded of that.

Hal laughs and shakes his head. “You’re going to do my chart then, aren’t you?” “Wit’out a doubt, Doctah Gates.” She wiggles her brows.

💙: who is more protective?

“I think objectively, I am. You know William’s troubles, and I have to keep them all in mind dough it’s not like he can forget dem, right? Some of his facts aren’t… I’ve consulted with some medical doctors and if we are careful, dere’s a lot he can experience dat he sees out of reach but I don’ like bringing dem up because I don’ want to agitate him. Only can lead t’ problems.” She does wish though that he’d trust her a little more, that he’d let go of some of his well deserved fears. That he’d let himself out of his shell and accept that even with limitations he can do many of the same things as the rest of the group does. But he seems content enough to hang back, ever the observer. And she doesn’t know if it’s her place to try to drag him into things though she might be better at it than anyone else. Miranda has told her as much.

💚: who tends to get sick more often? who is better at taking care of the other?

Hal’s question is really a continuation of the previous one and once again she has to call Billy out on it. Because she’s never really been sick a day in her life, not since early childhood and the culmination of that was the test bite that nearly lost her the leg she keeps tucked away, hidden out of sight whenever possible. “Dat seems a small kine ingenious, he no can help his seizure disorder. An’ I feel like he really ought to have a good psychologist. I t’ink some t’erapy would do him good. Spends too much time in his own head an’ mebbe not enough taking charge of his life. I know he can be afraid of lots of t’ings but it nevah really *has* to be dat way. But I also don’ wanna push him, for same-same reasons I mention before. You can lead a shark to chum but no can make him frenzy, know what I mean?” The analogy is silly. Billy wants so much more than what he feels he has. And a darker current in the back of her mind wonders if they would still be the same if he felt he could reasonably have them. That feels so selfish and toxic and she really has no place casting judgement on him when maybe she’s no better off than he is, only expressing it differently.

💜: who said "i love you" first? or, if neither has said it yet, who is more likely to say it first?

It’s strange how perceptive he is and goes in for the killing bite. The honest truth is that neither one has said it. And neither one likely will. Billy has layers of guilt and trauma, has beliefs that she cannot get a single foothold to try and tear apart. He doesn’t feel deserving of such a finer emotion. And Beth? She has her own reasons. She doesn’t even know if love is a thing that exists or if it’s some fairy-tale people tell themselves to make it easier to get by. She believes in affection, and she believes that people bond the same way packs and pods and herds do. But she feels the concept of love is poisonous. Ruinous in the way it can destroy someone from the inside out. And how any time she’s ever thought she’d felt it, it was ripped out from her grasp. She won’t say it. She won’t hear it.

She doesn’t answer him immediately, but instead gets up and paces away, appearing as though she’s checking on some of the cameras situated around the bay. The wall that she’d left down for Hal goes back up, slamming into place.

“Research from both psychology and neurology fields have found that there are twelve different areas of the brain that light up and work together when two people are attracted to one another, releasing chemicals like dopamine, adrenaline, oxytocin and vasopression. All the symptoms people experience are simply animal-instincts provided to guarantee that we as a species survive by either wanting to mate, or flee.”

💛: who believes in soulmates?

And Gates understands he’s made an error in judgement, though he’d only been trying to be helpful in a meddling kind of way. Anyone at the facility could see that Billy and Beth were two sides of a very quirky but ultimately needed coin. That they’d both changed each other in the two years she’d been a research fellow, and how they’d both blossomed for it. Well, anyone but the two of them. And this had seemed like such a good idea at first, tied into shark mating habits which he’d hoped she’d take better than she is.

Her answers have thus far matched up quite nicely with the boy’s.

Sadly, especially this one. She doesn’t turn to look at him. “There are no such things, Doctor Gates. And even if there were, statistically it would be almost impossible to meet a soul mate. Within the same general age group there are about a half a billion potential companions all over the world. One would have to travel the entirety of the world, every remote pocket of the planet. Secondly, there’s no scientific proof that souls even exist, and enough studies across various disciplines to prove that they don’t. Believing in such nonsense only makes a person unhappy. And all that aside, most mammals are not biologically programmed for monogamy and I doubt human beings are either.” Because if they were, why would anyone leave someone they claimed to love?

[brooklynislandgirl]

okay okay inquiring minds **gotta** know. William Manderly--he give as good as he looks?

Jurassic Answers || The Lost Memes @nolegacies {for reference}

The look that rests on Beth’s face should tell John Silver everything he ever wanted to know and at the same time says nothing at all beyond broadcasting her scandalised heart. Oh, she knows they all talk. From Dr Gates to the new guy on the island, the one she can’t stand, who's been brought on to work with the URCA’s security roster. What is his name again? Ah, yes. Israel Hands. There is another specific body part that comes to mind in place of his surname but even a little tipsy and flush-faced, Beth is too much of a lady to say it out loud. Rhymes with rock, though, doesn’t it? James and Miranda often exchange knowing looks whenever she and William get into their debates, passion often raising their voices in the dining hall long after the others have filtered out. Everything between the division of research funds {he’s still bitter that her species views his as food}, to who has seniority during tours. They have their quiet moments, too. It would be a lie if either of them said they didn’t sleep better when sharing the same hut, with Annie curled up at the foot of the bed. And how very often they wind up ~individually~ in the forgotten space of the underwater tunnels, preferring the oceans waves to surround them than a clear night sky and sand, like the others. So what if she stays behind when the staff takes the boat over to O’ahu or the Big Island to resupply or simply take time away from the aquarium? That doesn’t mean anything more than she wants to make sure he’s okay. She knows what lonely feels like and it’s pretty much the worst when you feel abandoned by everyone else around you. Okay, okay and maybe this is John’s revenge, since they’ve actually done a great job marketing the aquarium and brought in curious tourists with the Ask Otto blog, where they take turns typing up a ridiculous agony-aunt column for the fun of it. Of course William’s attractive. He’d be even better if he knocked that chip off his shoulder. At least then it might be a little easier to rest her head there, and maybe press her face into the side of his long neck. And yes, he’s as tall as a  paniana tree, while she looks like an ‘akia standing in his shade, but it really just means he can curl up literally almost completely around her with his arm heavy on her waist and his breath warm on the back of her neck. So what if they’ve come so very close to kissing one another over candle-lit plate lunches eaten during tidal shifts while recording data vital to both sharks and monk seals? Since when was that a crime? But for all the tension between them, for all the bite-or-be-bitten, nothing’s every really come of it and they continue to be the Beatrix and Benedict of the marine biology world. John Silver, lothario that he is and who still leers at her when she’s sunbathing or coming out of her diving suit...doesn’t really need to know that. She’ll go ahead and take one for the team, build up William’s reputation, and see if she can turn the tables in one fell swoop. “Billy?” A diminutive she doesn’t really use anywhere but in private with the man in question. “Oh my god, ya got no idea, brah. Couldn’t walk for hours las’ time we got t’geddah. I lost count how many times we ah...you know. I’m surprised no one else’s bragged about his stamina. Or if ya aksin’ da oddah question...when dey say all t’ings are proportionate? Just take into consideration how big he is fully clothed..” Her eyes go soft, half-closed lashes adding a certain smokiness to her gaze, and the way her teeth bite visibly into her lower lip, it’s really all the window dressing her comment really needs. She doesn’t think her fantasy is far from the truth, either, if they ever did manage to put their differences aside and let things get personal. “But’cha don’ hafta take my word for it. Why don’ ya go aks him?” Someday they might. Right now though? If she’s throwing herself under the bus, Billy’s gonna be right there with her the whole way down.

[brooklynislandgirl]

make me feel [uarf]

Make Me Feel || Not Accepting

{56. My muse finds a box full of notes from your muse with everything they hate about mine}

She doesn’t hear Billy come in. Doesn’t really acknowledge his presence or Annie’s as she stands in the middle of the room, a shoe-box in hand, crammed full of napkins and scraps of paper, old charts and maps that have his precise writing on the back of it. She should have put it back on the shelf but James had asked her to come find a particular NOAA chart she’d seen Billy put away recently. She hadn’t expected to knock the box over while trying to retrieve it, holding onto the side of the shelf with on hand, standing tippy-toed and still straining to reach as high as she might.

And when it did fall, and showered her in those bits and bobs? She had to collect them all and put them back in the box. But her name caught her eye and she couldn’t help but look. And oh, she wished she hadn’t. Beth knows she’s not exactly the most popular person in the world.  Most of the time her so-called friends back on the mainland just want someone to foot the party bill, someone who can get them into the places they want to go, regardless of the fact that she prefers to stay home. Or volunteering to make the world a better place rather than to contribute to all the things wrong with it already. She doesn’t need the reminder of it. She knows she can come across as bossy, it’s hard not to be in her family, where everything has to be pristine. She knows that she’s got more blessings than most people her age but she wouldn’t consider herself spoiled, not really. She lives as modestly as she can, keeps as small an ecological footprint as possible, donates most of her money to worthy causes. She only reads a few of these notes, enough to get a picture of what he thinks of her.

It’s not a good one, and there’s so many conflicting emotions on her face when she finally looks up, and stares...not exactly at him, but through him.

She stomps her way toward him, shoving the box at his chest.  “Flint wan’ da NOAA chart from las’ month.” This is all she says as she tries to make it to the door, heart pounding loud in her chest.

[brooklynislandgirl]

Make a Wish | Not Accepting @nolegacies​

They’re in her cottage, mercifully not worrying about being overheard. The facility is closed from tourists because it’s off season and they are taking a well-deserved week off. As usual that means most of the other people have taken a ferry to the Big Island or O’ahu, while she and Billy volunteered to remain behind, keep watch so that even Gates, Flint and Miranda could take time to themselves. There’s a storm on the horizon and the sky is roiling with thick, dark charcoal grey clouds, the wind whipping the branches of the palms and lashing at the nau’paka and grasses growing at the small cliffs of sand that demarcate the beach proper from the rest of the land. The sea is pitching frothy waves that would have been perfect for a good surf if they weren’t otherwise occupied. She has one wall rolled up and is framed against this dramatic backdrop, somewhat appropriate to the conversation being had. They’d been at contentious odds all week. Constantly stepping on one another’s toes. The frustration finally came to a boil when he’d said he’d be staying up at the facility to give her ‘your space’, as he put it. She’d snapped at that point, and had clambered off the bed, half intending to leave him in her place and taking a board out to the ocean. It was the only place for her to find her peace of mind but something had made her stop. Made her turn toward him. Her skirt flapped at her ankles at the stirring of the breeze, strands of dark hair blowing into her face until she’d reached up and loosely plaited it into a braid. And she’d thrown words at him, sharp as knives. “Just what DO you wan Doctor Mandahley?”

His answer though, about what she needed disarmed her entirely, not what she was expecting in the least and while it shocked her from blinding anger, it replaced that emotion with confusion. Her brows knit over her eyes, darker than usual, as they bear into him with all of the emotion she can put behind them, even as they narrow with a tilting of her head. Seconds tick by in heartbeats and half taken breathes before she shakes her head. “What does dat even mean? I don’ undahstan’. Wha’ is it ya t’ink I need, exactly?” She has her research fellowship with the most imminent shark biologist in the world. She has a place here at the Urca facility. She has made friends, good ones, amongst the crew, and she’s doing what she loves. She’s as far away from her father and his overvalued mainland. What is missing? What does he think he knows about her that she doesn’t? She isn’t one of his seals. She doesn’t need saving and she doesn’t need to be carefully reintroduced to the wild and she doesn’t need not be scrutinised like a tracked and tagged creature.  It makes her angrier, more defensive. “An’ wha’ about you? Wha’evah ya t’ink ya know... ‘least I’m no’ hiding behind dis place an’ my work!”

[brooklynislandgirl]

Complicated Relationship that needs advise? Ask Otto! Deep Philosophical Life questions? Ask Otto! No ask too small, no ask too big! Send them to his secretary’s inbox, anon or not and let Otto solve all your problems and riddles today!

[brooklynislandgirl]

Happy Birthday to the person that makes me better.

~*~

"I swear,” she giggles, half tripping on her own feet, “if you dump me in the Koi Pond or the coastal waddah exhibit, I’m gonna be choke mad a’cha.” While there’s laughter in her voice, there’s a subtle undercurrent of nervousness. She’d thought the sticky note ~recycled paper and vegetable-based ink acknowledged, appreciated, and aside~ wishing her a happy birthday stuck to her door, and a little fish bowl on her desk bearing a pretty new friend for Scampi the First, which is legitimately what she named the first purple zebra shrimp he’d given her ~tentatively to be named Umami~ well, what more could Billy really offer her?

She wasn’t expecting him to break into her office a second time, especially not when she was in there, midst typing up her notes on her most recent research paper, A Window to the Seasons, which links how sharks detect the passing of seals via their pineal gland to humans with Seasonal Affective Disorder and how solving one might change or assist with the other. She’s still typing away, not looking up when his hands come around her shoulders and bodily lifts her up. She tries to still reach the keyboard when he shifts them down to her hips and begins pushing her out of her door. It’s the middle of the night, or will be soon, anyway. She’s not expecting company so she’s got on her pyjamas, grey cotton leggings and an oversized Pink Floyd tee-shirt, feet bare even of slippahs ~which he reaches back to retrieve for her~ and tells her that she’s got to play along. After the first few minutes of him following behind her, covering her eyes, she becomes disoriented by the twists and turns. She can tell by the heat and the moisture on her skin that they leave the main facility for a time. At one point there’s a downward slope and another door. The air becomes cool and almost stale again, heavy with the smell of water but not the fresh ocean breeze, or the pools of the outdoor habitats. She can hear dripping and filter pumps. Cocks her head in the artificial dark of his palms and takes a stabilising breath. Finally she reaches up and pulls his hands away, only to hear his words at the edge of her ear, and it makes her shiver as the scene unfolds. A candlelit table reflecting in the glass of the bay tunnel, the secret part that visitors aren’t allowed. There’s been more than once in her stay that they’ve dragged sleeping bags and dreamt under the fish and the reefs, the ocean swell a far better lullaby than anything they could bottle up or prescribe on the mainland. The chafing dishes keep her from seeing exactly what it is he ~with maybe Miranda’s help~ has cooked up, but it’s still very beautiful, as is the single candle on the thing she recognises immediately as hummingbird cake, her favourite, and she has to wonder who his accomplice has been, because it sure isn’t Annie, curling up now off to the side in her dog-bed. There’s a small box next to one of the plates, and she can’t help but side-eye him. “What’s all dis?” she whispers. She was absolutely certain he disliked having her here and that even when they decided to play nicely, they weren’t exactly the best of friends. “Though, I goddah say, dis is...beautiful.”

[brooklynislandgirl]

🎧 beth/uarf

They’ll Write Songs About Us || Accepting

Ran Before the Storm || Roo Panes

[brooklynislandgirl]

[UARF] Apricot

Autumn Bleeds || -

“Whoa whoa whoa, slow ya roll dere, Lo`ihi,” Beth mutters under her breath doing her best imitation of being human scaffolding.  When she gets a hold of John at her earliest convenience, she’s going to murder the man with her bare hands. He knows Billy doesn’t drink. He knows that with Billy’s medication, drinking is dangerous. And of course Billy knows too and she wonders...why he did it anyway. Peer pressure makes no sense because he doesn’t consider any of them, even her, to be his peers. And even if he did, having this happen means that maybe no one gives as much of a damn as they think.She’s also missed more than half of what he’s been rambling about from the pool party to their living quarters. Across grass and beach and only belatedly does she realise, she’s never actually been in his hale, and that now the door is locked behind her, and he’s swaying like ship’s timber in a gale and just....“Mhhm. Billy? Billy? William...yeah I know I know...but uh. Mebbe ya just gonna have ta...”She has a hand fisted into his shirt to try and focus him, keep him steady while groping helplessly at the door latch behind her, the situation is untenable. And did he...what about seals....At least he’s not sullen and depressed.“Gonna hafta double back, hit up my place. Ya up for it?”

[brooklynislandgirl]

beth & uarf!billy

A Soundtrack | Accepting

opening credits: Walk on the Ocean | Toad the Wet Sprocket meeting for the first time: Mandolin Rain | Bruce Hornsby and the Range hey, i kinda like you: Just Like Heaven | The Cure i’m going to kiss you now: Dreaming of You | Cigarettes After Sex falling in love:  Falling Slowly | Cristin Milioti, Steve Kazee your place or mine: Mr Bombastic | Shaggy naked in bed: Talking in Your Sleep | The Civil Wars first fight: Sail | Awolnation maybe we should take a break: Pirate Song | Kenny Chesney i want you back: The Scientist | Coldplay will you marry me: Call It Dreaming | Iron & Wine we’re getting older: A Pirate Looks at 40 | Jimmy Buffett if you die i’ll go with you: Last Carnival | Bruce Springsteen end credits: Burn the Ships | For King & Country

@nolegacies

[brooklynislandgirl]

[u.a.r.f] 🥂 - for muses to go to a Christmas party together

Winter Wonderland || -

The band is tasteful, instrumental and mostly secular Christmas carols as well as a few covers for the ‘younger’ crowd, though it misses the mark by miles. The reception hall is decorated warmly in the idea of snowflakes and the great tree with marine themed decorations, a starfish in place of an angel and it’s all so very odd.She wonders if Miranda or Flint had anything to do with it. Likely they had a mainland crew come in and they just didn’t quite get island life, but the investors, guests and dignitaries seem to enjoy it and the overflow of champagne. There would be a silent auction later, commemorative exhibit plaques given out, small gifts handed out, a nightmare of press photos and speeches and suddenly getting a little toasty before dinner sounds fantastic.She flags down a waitress whose brows shoot up when she approaches Beth, and she can understand why. People aren’t used to seeing Billy at these kinds of things, and especially not dressed in a tuxedo. It had been part of her gift to him, having a tailor from Oahu come all the way out to measure and fit the tux so he wouldn’t have to leave the island. And here he is, dusty midnight blue tuxedo jacket with black satin lapels, black buttons on his dress shirt, pocket square. Black slacks ending in polished wingtips. He’s the definition of runway perfect, and would be if he didn’t look so displeased. If his hand wasn’t adhered to the small of her back.

“Macallen Rare Cask, on da rocks. Seedlip Espresso Martini. Mahalo.”Once the woman has gone, she tilts her head up and to the side, exposing the long column of her throat, and whispers. “Betcha one back-rub she come back an’ try give me da Martini.”

[brooklynislandgirl]

[UARF] 🍻 + Would you--would you stay if I asked?

In Vino Veritas || Accepting

“Awww! An’ here we see da great Doctah Manderly, las’ of his species…gettin’ sof’ in his old age, tryin’ t’ woo one female of a compatible~”She can’t finish the question because she breaks down into giggles that are far too girly for a fellow scientist. Makes her shoulders quiver like the jello in the tiny cups that John had been passing around earlier, deliberately skipping Billy over. Which she’d followed with tall, ridiculously colourful fruity drinks that you could smell the rum in them from leagues away. Two over the course of as many hours.This is the going away party, everyone getting a well deserved month long vacation from each other. Some will be back when those four weeks draw to a close, others won’t. She’s been here for one year, the exact promise that Gates had made when he’d selected her for her internship. And she’d learned so much from him, more than she could have anywhere else, and she’d made fond friends that she’s going to miss. Quiet little Ben and arrogant John. Jack and Anne. Gates himself, and Miss Miranda. She’s not sure exactly how she feels about Flint except that they have very little to do with one another, and really, she’s okay with it. Charles and Jay and Elanor. She will miss the seals and Annie, she’s going to miss Otto and the sharks and…And she’s going to, surprisingly, miss Billy most of all. The way his tea leaves rings on half the paper work on his desk because he’s too busy with his reports. The way that salt and sea and storm can’t keep him away from his babies. The way he looks so confused over social situations but is quietly companionable when he can block the rest of the world away.He’ll not get on a boat and then a cab, won’t take a plane to the mainland; not for symposiums, not for funding drives. And certainly not from a Kanaka girl who has half driven him mad at the best of times, and to near murder at the worst.Which means that…she may or may not see Billy Manderly ever again except from old photos on a dust jacket of the novel he’s going to write some day, non-fiction of course because….because somewhere along the way, she thinks Billy’s forgotten how to dream, and certainly won’t allow himself to look for it here, at the facility.That realisation crushes something inside of her and the giggles subside, replaced by a faintly hurt expression that seems to take over her whole face and roots itself in the grass-green of her gaze. She focuses on his face, tries to, even if he’s the teensiest bit blurry around the edges.She puts a fingertip to his lips.“Aks me. Aks me f’ stay…an’ mebbe…mebbe I tell you….yeah. But…but don’ do if ya feel pressured t’ do it. Only aks…if dat’s what you want.”

[brooklynislandgirl]

[UARF] "Santa just scares me."

Let It Snow || Accepting

Here, three days before Winter officially began, lays Beth. The concrete below her is warm and the temperature is an unexpected eighty degrees Fahrenheit, though thunderstorms are expected later. Right now, the sky is an endless blue though she can’t see it because her eyes are closed. Covered by little round Lennon style sunglasses with a mirrored rainbow sheen. Across her belly Winston’s muzzle lies motionless, his whiskers bristling against her bare skin. He’s drowsy too.

“Like...Mainland Santa...wi’ all da red an’ da fur, an’ all weirdly hideous wi’ child labour law breakin’ ...menahune.... or dem poor buss up deer kine he got...or ours. In his special shirt, an’ comin’ in on his canoe? Cause eiddah one could speak a lot about ya, William.”She cracks open an eye and glances at him as he lurks over the edge of the water, taking down instrumentation notes. If it wouldn’t dislodge the seal napping on her stomach, she would totally put a foot to his backside and see how well he can swim.

“Okay, okay, so how about dis. Is now ya job t’ come up wi’ an alternative to card an’ gift peoples idea of a holiday symbol. Wha’ ya choose, wha’ his or her or deir message, colours, background, whole nine yard. An’ cause I’m generous, I give ya ten minutes t’ answer....or I get ya office til da end of da year.”

[brooklynislandgirl]

Beth and UARF!Billy

All Hands || -

who wakes up first in the morning

He’s still asleep by the time she makes her way into his office with a small pile of reports from Dr Gates. Mostly because he’d been up until dawn watching the weather patterns out on the open water. She knows because she dragged her board out before the last stars faded into obscurity so that she could catch a few waves before proper sun-up. Sometimes when he sits on the docks with his laptop beside him, staring out at the sea, she swears he looks like he’s dying on the inside.Maybe he is. She would, if she couldn’t go out into the ocean.

who’s the first to fall asleep at night

And he’s still working when she leaves the actual facility a little behind the rest of the crew. There’s a get together over at John’s cottage, and they’re making plans on taking a cutter over to the Big Island for their days off, a rarity at the aquarium. But as much fun as everyone is having, it’s too loud. Too drunk. Too everything for comfort and she finds herself cleverly making off with a plate of appetisers no one is going to miss, and some cokes…because Billy doesn’t drink. Which was why they stopped inviting him.

By the time she makes it back to him with her ill-gotten gains, he’s all bent back and head bowed over his laptop. There’s not a single naked person on the screen; he’s editing video for a virtual symposium on seal reclamation. He barely acknowledges her presence except to mutter something under his breath.And much to her surprise, two quiet hours later, he gestures to the only thing that’s changed; a couch unearthed from the Miocene Graduate School epoch of random texts. There’s what looks suspiciously like a doggie blanket draped on one end, and a pillow that doesn’t match anything, anywhere in the universe.What else can she do but curl into a ball and nap?

what they playfully tease each other over

“Doctah Manderly, can you please pass the salt?”“Doctor Riley, have you double checked your figures? Random unsubstantiated facts…”“Doctah Manderly, not da salt I was aksin’ for.”“Perhaps you should have been more clear, Doctor Riley.”

John can’t roll his eyes any harder. “For fucksake, can you just pass her the condiment tray already?”They glance at each other. He’s almost smiling.

It’s going to be a good day.She never does get the salt, though.

what they do when the other’s having a bad day

It’s unusual not to find him with the seals. It’s even more so to have Annie come trotting up to her, teeth tugging at Beth’s skirts gently. By the time they get back to Billy’s office ~never his…parent’s bungalo, she’s noticed~ he’s curled up on the floor, arms and legs tucked as close to his torso as possible. Eyes squeezed shut. All the lights off until the darkness is a living, breathing thing.Not even his laptop is on.She can see from the sliver of light that penetrates the gloom from the open door that his bottle of tablets is laying on its side on his desk, and he tried to give himself a dose of Keppra. The groan directs her attention back to him and she quickly comes inside, Annie at her vanguard, and closes the door.In the silence she picks her way to him and slides down the front of the couch so she’s sitting next to him. Carefully she cushions his head in her lap and starts rubbing small circles between the atlas and axis of his c-spine. She can’t make his migraines go away, she can’t do anything about the seizures, but she can certainly offer what little comfort she can.

how they say ‘i’m sorry’ after arguments

“Wot’s’ee sayin’?” John asks.Ben narrows his eyes and focuses on Billy’s face. A minute later, the whippet-thin groundskeeper shakes his head and shrugs. Which invariably annoys Silver to no end. The blow out last night had been legendary in its own quiet way.Manderly had stood her up. The celebration of her first article co-chaired with Gates, and Tall-Blonde-And-Anti-social couldn’t be assed to show for the cocktail party and the grant announcement. Flint had slipped out and turned back up empty handed and Miranda…had the pinched face of disappointment twinned with worry.

The rest of the crew had taken bets on exactly how upset Hurricane-Beth had been and what kind of fresh hell Manderly had in-store for him. Silver had a hundred bucks riding on the outcome.~*~“In short… it was unavoidable, and maybe in the future, I could be given more than a day’s notice.”“Yeah, okay.”“You…keep saying that. But I don’t quite believe you.”“Okay.”“Doctor Ri–Eliza—Beth. Would you please look at me?”

“Why?”“Because I’m trying to apologise and it’s very disconcerting having to stare down at you.”“And I’m tryin’a read.”

“And I’m trying to apologise.”“Thank you, William. Apology accepted.”Billy throws his hands in the air and wanders off.

which one’s more ticklish

His hands are warm. They are wide-palmed but slender. Long, clever fingers, tapered at the tip. And they are evil. In one of his rare appearances, Billy is joining the pool party. Sits on the edge of her deck chair. In moving her feet so he didn’t crush them, he absolutely noticed the flinch when his thumb graced the line of her in-step. He tries it again and is rewarded with the most unladylike snort in the whole course of human history. She squirms and writhes and the more she does, the firmer his grip becomes because she doesn’t get to escape, and he’s not about to let her kick him.

Her feet are ticklish.He skims his way a little higher, intent on trying for her knees, now that her legs are laid across his lap. She jerks again. This time though there’s no laughter behind it. As soon as his fingers glide over the scar-tissue she bolts upright. Adjusts the wrap so it covers her from the waist down, over her bikini. The gaze she throws his way is full of hurt and full of malice before she stalks off.He mutters under his breath because once more he’s managed to much things up. There ought to be a precisely indexed and double-spaced codex somewhere detailing the nature of women. He doesn’t understand why everything with her is so hard. They aren’t with seals. They aren’t with Miranda. They aren’t with Annie who leans her head into the side of his leg.

their favourite rainy day activities

It’s the off-season and the facility is down to a skeleton crew. Most everyone’s gone to the Big Island or Oahu or even the mainland for some much needed rest. But Billy isn’t satisfied letting other people take care of his seals, and Beth… as much as they don’t get on sometimes… can’t stand the idea of him staying alone, with virtual strangers even if it IS only for a week.So they follow the same patterns they do every day. Walking the beach with Annie and his seals in tow, feeding treats now and again and she collects shells. They eat together quietly. He spends hours in his office, she keeps company with Dr Gates’ open water tank, daydreaming about swimming with the man-eaters that stop by to visit, and with the others. And the rain comes in the quiet of it all, because of course it does. Beth leaves half her hut open to the elements. It’s the least civilised one of the residences. There’s no real furniture, per se, beyond the bed that takes up most of the room inside, a fireplace, some book shelves, the hammock strung up to the beams, and little touches. Her surf-board in a corner, and a few suitcases that live in a perpetual state of Schrodinger’s packing.

Billy lays across the bed on his stomach, reading an honest to goodness novel. He’s got a blanket bunched up under his chest, his arms. She uses his side the same way and flips through her phone for something by Chopin. Annie’s in her own space, as close to him as she can be.They don’t talk, they don’t really do anything. It’s still the best week, ever.

how they surprise each other

“What is that, even?” Billy stares at the dubious blackened lumps of..oddly flat charcoal.“Pancakes!”“Panca-”“Ya know. Breakfast in bed.” The more he pokes at them with the fork the less amused she looks, the less proud.He’s so going to regret this. And so will Annie. And Gates. And Flint. And anyone else who comes into contact with him afterwards.

He forces himself to chew a bite he’s chisled free. His face strained as he whispers, “delicious.”

their most sickening shows of public affection

It’s the New Season Luau.Some of the staff have dug an imu and there’s an entire pig roasting in its depths not far from the long table covered with other things; local delicacies, people’s family recipes, a mixture of traditional and new. There’s no tourists, no visitors. Just the faculty and workers of the research centre.John and Ben and some of the others are flinging a Frisbee just down the beach in full light of the citronella torches. Miranda and Flint are debating with Gates who is content to trade a bottle with Randall.The night air is balmy and Beth’s standing further apart from the rest, arms wrapped around her bare waist. Billy comes up behind her and drops his chin down on the crown of her hair, breathes in the scent of the plumeria blossom tucked behind her ear, Annie leaning against his leg. He rests his arms over top of her. Pulls her closer into him.

He thinks about asking her to dance.She thinks about letting him.

[brooklynislandgirl]

Have some?

Through the Grape Vine || Accepting

{{@nolegacies}}

“So. John an’ me were at one of dose lil stand up tables ~we look f’ ya an’ no find~ an’ we were discussin’ da trouble wi’ Otto, right? I keep tellin’ him dat mebbe he’s lonely an’ wan some company. Mebbe a Greta or a Ursula in his tank wi’ him. An’ John was sayin’ dat when a octopus mates, he likely gonna die. Which of course sounded horrible to me.”

She keeps cutting across his field of view. Slathering lotion along her legs, along her arms, and glancing at him from over her shoulder as though Billy sitting there while she’s winding from the night’s gala wasn’t even a thing, as if she doesn’t recognise that this might be considered not only an ethical breach between colleagues but that as a man the other doctor might just be uncomfortable.

“An’ somehow dat devolved into a raddah frank discussion about species an’ sex, an’ ultimately human behaviour, right?”Back to him, she let the towel drop as she shimmied her sleeping shirt down to her knees, covering up the bit of lace worn underneath. Next the towel was gathered up and she disappeared into the bath which to be honest was only concealed from the room by a large teak and koa-wood screen.When she comes back she is drying her hair and drops down beside him.

“Anyway, someone comes up behind an’ I guess ovah hear the talk, an’ tells me…deir best bit of advice? T’ have some.”She pauses a beat.“Like. Told me t’ go have s-e-x. An’ I mean…how rude is dat? Like. Like if I was gonna eventually do dat…it wouldn’t be wi’ anyone from here.”

[brooklynislandgirl]

💿(Beth and Uarf!Billy)

Notes in a Quiet Room || Accepting

The Stories that Scars Have Carved

Ocean Bloom || Hans Zimmer ft. Radiohead

Braille || Lisa Hannigan

Banrion mo Chroi || Lisa Hannigan

Cold Water || Damien Rice

Sitting on the Dock of the Bay || Otis ReddingOceans || Pearl Jam

Southern Cross || Crosby, Stills, NashLet it Be || The Beatles

Listen to Your Heart || RoxetteModern Day Pirate || The Musical BladesAnswer || Sarah McLachlan