#lcvoyant

[allroundlostcause]

after syracuse | ric and manny

@lcvoyant

The sun is just beginning to rise when they hit the outskirts of Syracuse, a half hour after leaving a grateful family to get some sleep, and then clean up, in that order. It has occurred to Alaric that the smart money is on spending a few hours sleeping in the RV before heading back to Boston. There are two reasons not to, though; first and foremost, it’s less than a six-hour drive home, meaning they’ll be back by lunchtime. Second, and only by a whisker, is that it’s been an exhausting few days, but that is unlikely to stop them from offering to help clean up the broken furniture and shredded wallpaper, and quite possibly, Alaric offering to repair the destroyed wiring. He could almost hear it; he or Manny offering, the family putting up a half-hearted refusal, and then Manny and Alaric insisting.

They are good people, both of them. But there has to be a limit to what they’ll do to help. There are two teenage boys in that family, tall, strong boys who seem to be the type who are happy to roll their sleeves up and work. The family isn’t exactly poor, and there are probably plenty of licensed electricians who will do a better, cleaner job than Alaric could if getting the home functional again.

And after the month they’ve just had?

They deserve to ride off into the sunset on a high note.

Well. The sunrise. Whatever. Same overall feel, more desire for a bacon and egg sandwich and some coffee.

Alaric is… ebullient. Not a word he’s often used to describe himself, but it seems apt. Credence on the stereo, a wide grin on his face, and most importantly, Manny by his side (more tired than Alaric is, having done most of the work, but looking pretty pleased with himself nonetheless). Despite his tiredness, Manny looks healthy. The last couple of weeks the color has returned to his cheeks, he’s gained a little weight (not much — Alaric might order those bacon and egg sandwiches with extra bacon), and sleeping through the night might still be a dream for another day he’s certainly sleeping more than he was.

Alaric turns, grinning, and adjusts the volume on the radio. It’s probably a little too loud for dawn.

“Manfred Bernardo,” he says, and he can feel how warm and fond his eyes are. “You… you were fucking amazing.” He wants to say that Xylda would be proud — and she would be — but invoking her name can sometimes bring Manny down a little. Never know which way it might go, on any given day, so why take the risk on a day this sweet? “When I think about what that family’s been going through… and you were steady as a rock,” he adds, knowing his voice sounds more than a little awestruck.

He reaches out and gives Manny’s shoulder a squeeze. They’re long healed up from that terrible night, both of them. And after a month living together, and finding it easier every day to settle their bodies together then stay apart, the distance between the seats in the front of the RV feels unreasonably wide.

Alaric loves it. He’s been thriving on it; hadn’t realized how lonely he was until Manny had decided that it was more fun watching television stretched out together, touching from neck to knee (a ploy, Alaric thinks, to get Alaric to play with his hair and a ploy that works every single time without fail).

But this had been a test, of sorts. Manny needed to get back to what he does and Alaric needed to make sure that working together still worked; and it does. Even better than before. They communicate wordlessly and coordinate seamlessly.

“Fucking unreal. Oh, man, I can still taste plaster dust. Can you pass me that water bottle?”

[bcrnfighter]

“ don’t talk, just kiss me. ”

kissy sentence starters. // accepting

it’s funny that coming over with a pie, an apology, and his heart on his sleeve bobo had expected to be set gentle aside in the relics of the past. he’d left to deal with his family, helped fiji remodel her living room, and then ate sand cookies till the true came out and he’d wilted under her pitying smile.

sometimes bobo winthrop you’re too sweet and too dense all at once.

they’d shared a laugh and fiji kissed his cheek, telling him that sometimes happiness wasn’t something to run away from even if he felt like he didn’t deserve it. it’d taken him a week to figure out just the right thing to say, the words that manfred deserved after he’d traveled to the south.

it’s funny that it all boils down to manfred telling him five little words.

don’t talk, just kiss me.

“oh.”

laughter slips free and bobo ducks his head for a moment before setting the apple pie on the table. it’s a few awkward steps forward before he’s catching manfred’s hands in his own. I think I can manage that, he wants to say but he knows that’d be talking, that’d be doing opposite of manfred’s demands.

a soft kiss to knuckles.

I’m sorry.

then he’s leaning in and catching those lips with his own like this was right where he belonged, like he hadn’t left without goodbye or telling him what happened. one kiss becomes two and fingers card into dark hair, cradling him close while he slowly devours him.

“any other demands y’got, manfred?” it’s a rough sort of whisper and he’s smiling, pressed forehead to forehead. “pie’ll get cold if y’got too many.”

[xcommon-blog]

“i can’t think straight with you.”

SOFT ANGST STARTERS | accepting

“ — ....How do you mean? ” Asking thoughtfully but all the while a quiet fear sitting in his throat. The more he had come to understand Manny’s affinity with the dead, the more Istavahn worried this connection was going to make Manny one of them. What a funny twist of irony, DEATH wanting to spare a life.

@lcvoyant

[allofusandco]

“are we just friends or is this flirting serious?” [ for al ]

@lcvoyant - random sentences

                It’s late, what, 4am? Stools and chairs up on the tables, only one light left on behind the bar, and they’ve been drinking steadily since probably half an hour before Al locked the door on the last drunk. He should have told Manny to leave already. Thing is, he hadn’t wanted to. He doesn’t want to.

But that doesn’t make this any easier.

Al feels the smile slip from his lips, and he glances up for a moment. Evaluating, maybe. Why is Manny so cool about this? How is any guy, ever, so cool about this? He can see his mother and her kind, wise face, telling him nothing worthwhile is easy, but maybe she wouldn’t have said it about something like this. Al doesn’t know. He’s not sure he can remember ever talking to her about liking someone.

“You don’t fuck around the bush, do you,” he says, with a laugh. Should’ve known Manny would be direct. Despite some obvious issues, he seems to know what he’s about. “I don’t really know what I’m doin’,” he confesses. Probably doesn’t come as a massive shock to Manny. Al doesn’t know how to read people, or maybe doesn’t trust himself to do it right.

Al drains the glass to halfway, pretty sure Manny isn’t laughing at him, but still feeling kinda deer-in-the-headlights about it all. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, flips a coaster over. Every gesture is a stalling tactic. Lame.

“I mean,” he says, palms sweating. “If it was serious. Would that be alright or not?”

[techgilded-blog]

           “d’you think we lost ‘em?” henslan asks, pressing a hand against the deep cut in his thigh as manny drives. he’s doing his best to ignore the heavy feeling of dread filling up the car like a noxious cloud. anxiety, fear, worry-- whatever those things were, they were fast, they were hungry, and bullets didn’t stop them. 

@lcvoyant gets a starter they didn’t ask for.

[whcwashe]

@lcvoyant from xx 

         “ -- manny, i’m so sorry ...” she pauses, resisting her urge to reach out touch him, or at the very least offer some kind of stability. because she was never fully certain whether that sort of thing was a comfort, or if it felt too much like an empty gesture instead. so she squeezes his wrist instead, once, and gently, before she withdraws. it was understandable. the way he felt. there was a different kind of finality, when someone left a second time. and an awful kind of loneliness to it when no one else around you KNEW. “i’m glad she was here for you, for as long as she was. she sounds like she was pretty incredible.” not that it made losing her any easier. “can i get you something? water? beer?”

[noprodigalson-arch]

@lcvoyant

        “ yeah right, ” manny’s muttering, voice soft to keep from prodding the bear of a headache he’s got brewing behind his eyes. “ i might be dumb, but i’m not stupid. i know what you are. ” manny’s only ever crossed paths with one other hunter in his lifetime, back when he was just a kid, but xylda had made a hell of an impression getting them the fuck out of dodge. anything that could scare a tough-as-nails old lady like xylda wasn’t somebody he wanted to mess with. “ just thank me for saving your ass, and don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. ”

         not for the first time, manny really wishes he’d inherited his mother’s ability to walk the fuck away.

dean pauses to think about their statement for a second. eventually he dismisses the thought with a shake of his head before taking a defensive stance. arms crossed, he leans towards the other man’s presence, trying to assert himself. “ and how the fuck do you just know what i am? ”

      while the person did help save dean ( later, he will adamantly say he had the situation handled ), the hunter will happily look a gift horse in the mouth. too many times he’s been burned by those who have helped him. it was never mistake to be too cautious.

[cbipsychic]

[Break my Muse] Manny doesn't do it on purpose, and he doesn't do it with malice. But there's no denying that he's frustrated and worn thin from days of working this case, so maybe he doesn't take the care he should've when he Patrick, "There's a Charlotte here. She says she wants to talk to you."

Break my muse. Exploit their insecurities and weaknesses. Do whatever it takes to make them angry or cry. 

arms  folded  ,  patrick  was  quiet  as  the  other  man  spoke  .  trying  to  get  a  RISE  out  of  him  .  there  was  no  question  about  how  well  known  a  tragedy  his  life  was  .  it  had  been  well  publicised  .  documents  involving  his  families  case  had  been  turned  into  chapters  &&  books  concerning  the  criminology  psyche  &&  of  course  red  john  .  hearing  his  daughters  name  however  ,  came  as  a  shock  to  the  system  but  he  kept  it  together  .  he  must  have  done  his  research  is  all  .  must  have  done  .  that  was  the  only  reason  he  would  hear  his  little  girls  name  be  thrown  out  into  the  wind  like  that  .  his  lips  turned  in  .  ‘  OH  ?  ‘

[comeonlads]

❝ Let me just say, from the bottom of my heart… My bad. ❞

“what in the holy fuck are you PLAYING at, bruv?”

him and the lads are just having a pint or two, minding their own, and look who comes and makes a right tit of himself front and center! jim pats down his wood arm with napkins handed over by three-times who’s got a thing for only handing over three in a go before jim goes all pink in the ears and says, “JUST HAND ME THE LOT, YOU FUCK.”

and your boy arty is trying to be diplomatic but it’s been a tough day, yeah? fuck the questing beast, you feel me?

“you gonna say sorry proper to jim here?”

[hittcr-a]

@lcvoyant liked for a starter!

                  “they told me you’re th’ psychic.” eliot wasn’t sure he believed in all of that. funny, of course, given his own condition as something less than human. he had no room to question the supernatural. “tol’ me you see ghosts.” it wasn’t a real question. eliot was new. that wasn’t hard to see. and he had ghosts. that wasn’t hard to see either. 

[epicentered]

an answer doesn’t come at first, just a cautious squint. but then the weight is shifted to his hip, head ducking as he reaches back. a crumpled up paper is fished out his back pocket. smoothing it out slowly, he’s by some miracle still juggling several large bags, herbs, and at least a potted plant.

“well, if you’re not fiji then i’ve got four more houses to try.” it’s a growl of an answer and the receipt is offered up as the weight is shifted back a little in his arms. “i help run an apothecary in dallas, she ordered some materials and i gotta make sure it gets there in one piece.” a pause, then as if remembering his manners, the man smiles briefly.

“folks call me gunn. i’d shake your hand but you don’t look like you’re fond of smelling like skunk cabbage and cardamom on accident if i drop this bag.”

╓ @lcvoyant -- [ x ]

[allroundlostcause]

BEGINNINGS (Warren Verse)

The Story meme (The Haunting)

Ric’s father Ed was a Harvard physicist. Ric intended to follow in his footsteps, but his mother was a gifted scholar in history (she didn’t have a position, but she had an encyclopedic knowledge of history and a good grasp of political science) and he was ultimately torn between humans and atoms.

The first time he spoke to someone who claimed to have seen a ghost and who he actually believed, his world shifted. He began pursuing opportunities to experience ghosts. It was evident early on that he didn’t feel anything. He wondered sometimes if his contacts were just frauds and still believes some were. But then he met Manny.

Ric never doubted Manny’s abilities for a second and was determined from the moment they met that they would be friends. He was attracted early but set that aside for as long as he could. When he realized how badly he missed Manny when it had been a while since they spent time together he decided it was time to at least start a conversation.

So Ric had a strategy for broaching the topic when they next met up to investigate a prison. He was going to be very cool and calm. Instead, they nearly died, and Ric announced that Manny was the love of his life.

[bcrnfighter]

↳ @techgilded & @lcvoyant

been a while since he’d crossed ways with the tall fella with a stink eye that seemed to follow manfred like a ghost. yeah, maybe some part of him is jealous. bobo winthrop is too proud a sonuvabitch to admit that though. see when you stab someone with a knife, it’s intimate. so bobo looked up at him set his jaw and swallowed back pain when fingers dug in at his wrist.

the guy got in close, talked real quiet, and bobo had felt something dark rise up in the pit of his stomach in retaliation. whatever it was the guy woke up just won’t die down or go back from wherever the hell it came. surprising no one, instead of words the only thing that came out was a mean right hook. now bobo is sitting in the midnighter’s room, jaw aching from a run in with a pair of rowdy customers earlier in the day. creek’s voice is a clear indicator there’s another midnighter coming to sit off in the back and he’s looking up from his meatloaf expectantly.

“aw hell.”

the behemoth isn’t hard to spot behind manfred and the smile falls from his features briefly. sour bitter words hang on his tongue. you’re no good for him. you don’t belong here in midnight. you hurt him I will hunt you down. but bobo is quiet, looking down at his half-eaten dinner now that he’s tasting something bitter like a mix of jealousy and anger. “creek, I’ll square up with madonna on the way out,” he says getting to his feet, gripping his jacket and tugging it on. “seemed t’have lost my appetite.”

[xcommon-blog]

@lcvoyant cont. from here.

Death is not at ease but Istavahn knows that he needs to at least present a calm facade to allow Manny to decompress. It means pulling back Death’s face and wearing the farce that his humanity. He has never felt like more of a lie in this body than when he RIPS these vengeful spirits from their hijacked form and ELIMINATES them from existence. Do not pass GO—, do not collect $200.  Istavahn won’t make decisions for Manny about who he permitted in his body, but there are limits even to his patience, cause harm to that which Death holds dear, and well, that’s it.  

Istavahn is hovering protectively over Manfred, cool fingers reaching up and tracing along his cheek gently. He wants to let him rest. There’s lingering traces of dried blood and whatever else on the younger man that needs to go away. 

“ — I think we should get you cleaned up. The heat will feel good on battered bones, then we can get you to bed. ” It’s an offer, Istvahn has done this before. Held Manny as water cleansed the day, while the mortal man rested, bodily against him.

[tenebraemortem]

-- @lcvoyant from [ x ]

A nervous sort of laugh slips free. Right. He’d nearly forgotten that most people didn’t like the reminder of authority. Trystan can’t blame him, not at all honestly. But it isn’t the reason that he’s here looking like something a cat dragged home. So he’s swallowing hard and his brows are knitted up tightly, gaze fixated on his shoes for a moment while he gathers up the loose thoughts.

“Well, uh, Bernardo or Manfred? I think I need your help.” Swallowing thickly, he’s meeting the other man’s gaze much like a skittish animal. One loud sound and he’s liable to take off running for the hills.

“I don’t have anyone else to go to and I need someone to just -- to tell me I’m not crazy.” His heart is hammering wildly in his chest and he’s got his eyes on the shadows around them like they might come alive. The longer he stays still, the louder those whispering hisses are getting. The closer It gets to him. “Please, I don’t have much but I just -- I need help.”

[techgilded-blog]

          “if you thought i was going to stop you, you’re horribly wrong, shortstack,” henslan says, a little to amused with manny’s state to help himself. he’s laughing softly to himself. not maliciously, just... amused. 

@lcvoyant ♥’d