#thread: elijah 001

[tonibeltran]

x. status -> closed for @elijahfalvey x. location -> o'shea's

Most of Antonio’s natural instincts are usually dulled by the fifth drink — you’d think this would render him useless when it comes to picking up signals, but there’s something to be said for how quickly the body can adapt to anything, if you let it. There’s a tall, dark man across the bar who’s been making eyes at him since he’d settled in his seat, seemingly biding his time. Antonio’s been in no rush — he’d needed a certain number of drinks to settle the parts of him he tucks away where no one looks, drowned beneath a liquor-fueled stupor and the fog of weed-soaked oxygen. In this way, he can hide whatever unpleasantness stirs within him, and instead allow the substances in his body to take over like muscle memory. Smile, laugh, converse. Kiss, push, fuck.

He’s finished the last drink that’ll surely do the trick when he stands, eyes still on the tall, dark man across the bar. The other seems to shift in his seat, an anticipatory look on his face. Antonio doesn’t think that he’d maybe do well to look at where he’s going until it’s too late and he’s accidentally shoulder checking a taller man who happens to be walking past him. The bar is not so crowded that the physical contact was unpreventable — he supposes the other man hadn’t been looking, either. Still, he is ready to end it with a muttered, “Ah, shit.”

Because politeness is inherent within him, he raises his gaze to meet the other man’s with the intention of apologizing quickly and being on his way. What he doesn’t expect, however, are the familiar brown eyes that look back at him, a shade darker than he’s used to seeing them in his dreams. Were his blood not mostly alcohol, Antonio’s sure it’d freeze where it’s running through his veins at the sight of Elijah Falvey standing not two feet away from him after years and years (and what, admittedly, feels like many more years) of his absence.

Whatever anger may have bubbled to the surface on a normal day is quelled by the cover of a substance cocktail. It works like a barrier between what he should feel and what he’s allowing himself to feel, and even so, a small part of him thinks the ground beneath his feet has shifted somewhat. He feels uneven, in a way he doesn’t particularly like, and something like longing is crawling beneath his skin in a desperate attempt to claw its way out. The consecutive, unwelcome memories that overlap each other in less than a second — Elijah’s smile, his laugh, his quiet concentration, the furrow of his brows, the softness of his touch — are harder to put down this time than any of the others, but he manages it through an impressive feat of determination and sheer, dominating will. 

So he puts on his laziest smile, allows the foreign matter in his body to lead his shoulders toward a slump, his uncaring, unfazed facade a perfectly practiced maneuver presented in the most unassuming manner. He nods at Elijah, as if he were greeting an old acquaintance he’d rarely ever spoken to, and says, “Oh, hey.” His smile turns a little crooked. “That’s my bad. Didn’t see you there.”

[rorysanderson]

x. status -> closed for @elijahfalvey x. location -> blue violet blooms

Rory’s lucky Thalia’s understanding enough of him having to bring Annie along to some of his shifts. Especially during the summer, in that awkward mid-July phase, where most summertime activities are taking their breaks and anyone Annie’s age is off on vacation with the rest of their families. He’d usually be able to get Maya to look after her no problem, but he’s already asked too much of her this summer, and he can’t imagine running her own shop while having to worry about Annie.

Though Annie’s pretty good about entertaining herself — she’s currently in the back room, coloring in some new zombie coloring book, because his daughter has begun to insist zombies are her friends, and it seems enough retailers agree that zombies are just something kids might like, if he takes the fact they found a zombie-themed coloring book into consideration.

His shift is over in about half an hour, anyway, and then he’ll take Annie out for some real food. He’d made her a peanut butter and jelly sandwich before they left the house, which she’d eaten almost immediately after they arrived, despite Rory’s warning of her imminent hunger lately. He’s trying to let her learn about the consequences of her own actions, but that’s backfiring for him this time around, since she hasn’t once complained about being hungry. Maybe he should trust she knows her own body better than he does.

He’s taking stock of some of the new inventory that’s arrived when he hears the bell over the door ring. He glances over to greet the new arrival, and smiles widely when he sees Elijah strolling in, looking familiar inside the flower shop in a way most people don’t. “Thought you might not be coming in today,” he jokes, penning the final count for the peonies before setting his clipboard down on the counter. “You’re usually earlier than this.”

[runicink]

There was an immediate wave of emotion that rolled through her at the mention of Persy's name. She could count on one hand the number of people she'd give everything for outside of her dads and Persy was one of them. Luc's eyes light up as she spills into talking, "Oh Persy's one of my best friends, yeah, I know her. Wow, she and I need to catch up on some things apparently because... well, maybe I just haven't been prying enough. Gotta rectify that... also gotta set up a date for she and I and Mak to go out and get into a lot of trouble. Sorry, thinking out loud!"

It takes a moment for Luc to realize how she's acting and she reels it in, giving Elijah a more normal expression, still smiling, "I haven't seen her yet out here. I didn't even know she was coming... then again I didn't know I was coming so..."

runicink​:

Mingling was Lucía’s forte, it felt like. She could get integrated with almost any crowd because her personality just tended to mesh well with others. She did have her rivalries and enemies, but gosh if she didn’t just love having those cursory relationships that bordered on intangible.

“Lovely to meet you, Elijah! Gotta love a fellow table nomad, never stopping too long in one place like our lives are somehow more interesting than they are… ‘cause we’re doing it at like a barbecue and what not?” A pause, fingertip tapping against her lip and blackened with ink from her recent tattoo works, “Who’re you waiting for? Not to pry, but also totally to pry. I could tell you if I’ve seen them?”

-

“It’s also a good excuse to run when the wind literally changes.” He couldn’t help a quiet laugh at Lucia’s enthusiasm. “Her name’s Persy, she’s the head librarian at the city library.” Similar to himself, Elijah had met plenty of people knew Persy by her position even if not by name, so there was a chance.

[hausofmist]

with: @cemeterysgirl | elijah & sasha

"hey!" elijah called out, walking towards the young woman he caught wandering around the island. "what are you doing here?" he realised he probably sounded quite gruff and could be scaring her, which wasn't helpful. "...the tides' come in. we'll be cut off from the mainland until tomorrow. did you not see the signs?"

[reggiefalvey]

closed for: @elifalvey

where: reggie's place in bighorn hills

"You can put that one there," Reggie directs, using a half-eaten Red Vine as a pointer of sorts as he gestures to the general empty floor space beside where his TV and PlayStation 5 were. He has yet to source a bedframe, but he had ensured he was able to play FC24 from the second the space was his for the duration of his lease.

( It was the only way Wales would ever lift a trophy. )

Initially, he had helped, lugging two boxes that had previously been stored at their parents inside where he would unpack them at some point in the near -- or more likely, slightly distant -- future. Like most things with Reggie, the effort trickled off to less than nothing, as a quick glance at his phone had ended up in him sprawled on his couch replying to Instagram DMs while he chewed his way through the remnants of last night's snack of choice.

"Is that the last one?" He asks, with full awareness that it was.

[eroltilki]

closed starter for eli falvey ! ( @elifalvey ) location ; the vinyl countdown !

Music had always been a defining force in Erol's life— he'd never considered himself gifted enough to pursue it as a career path; especially not when he'd been dead set on taking over the family business in the first place, but it was a passion and it had allowed him to make friends he might never have bonded with otherwise. Though, he had a fairly solid hunch that he'd have gotten along with Eli whether music was the basis of their friendship or otherwise. "Alright, man, I need your expertise for a second here. I'm trying to track down some new stuff to learn on guitar and every time I try to sort it out myself I get totally stuck on it. I figured rummaging around here would either help me muster up some inspiration or at least give you some ideas," Erol joked, glancing at the other man with a smile.

[assortedmutts]

@lcngdays, from this.

“Oh,” doubt, shortly followed by regret, visibly washes over Job’s face as he hesitates relinquishing the container over to the stranger. With no food allergies of his own to speak of, the notion has never even occurred to him before. “O-oh, uh -- I really wouldn’t be able to tell you, my guy. Sorry.”

Though still unsure as to whether his previous invitation to dine together has been accepted or denied by the man, he begins leading the both of them toward the motel as he hurries to add, very much despite himself, “You can have half my burger, if you’d like. That can’t’ve been fried in peanut oil, right?”

To be quite frank, Job hasn’t the slightest of clues whether this is true or not and, what’s more, is very much capable of inhaling the whole thing on his own, he’s so hungry - but, now he’s made the offer, Job reckons he cannot take it back. He can go an evening short of a satisfying meal if it means another drifter such as himself does not go hungry, either.

[gunmetalarchived]

for @enduringlystoic​​ from this sc

    “ Your accent, it’s almost close enough.”

There was something about that old fashioned, transatlantic way of speaking. She didn’t hear many accents like her own over here. Alex missed London almost as much as she missed daylight. It was impossible to yearn for anything other than the cobbled streets of the city, the bustle and thoroughfare of rowdy pubs. It had a different background noise to New Orleans. Less jazz, more bad versions of Mr Brightside spilling out onto the street.

Heightened emotions made homesickness twice as hard.

She took another sip from her beer, shifting in the warm evening air.

    “ Guessing you spent time in England?”

[lcstpaths]

elijah mikaelson   ,   canon divergent

[tonibeltran]

While it’d be easier to be annoyed at Elijah for doubling down — it was just a thought, he says, as if Antonio doesn’t know the thought had probably come with days of hoop-jumping in order to make Harrison’s request make even the slightest lick of fucking sense — Antonio’s found he doesn’t usually make things easy for himself, if he can help it. Besides, he dares anyone to try to be annoyed at a six-foot-two giant kicking rocks so petulantly. It’s almost unfair, how such annoyance that’s probably meant to be felt towards Elijah ends up battered into the one that lives so permanently inside Antonio for Harry, but then again, he thinks their lead vocalist is overdue some fucking discomfort. 

His hands remain firmly in his pocket, fingers twitching with longing and resentment, both for things so egregiously out of his reach it’s almost comical to feel anything at all for them. He doesn’t respond to the follow-up suggestion — thinks Elijah knows exactly how he feels about it, same as he knows Antonio’s going to fucking try it anyway, because he asked. It barely warrants acknowledgment, at this point. It’s a pattern he fears only Elijah’s not well-aware of — Harrison asks Elijah, Elijah says yes. Elijah then asks Antonio, Antonio says yes. Antonio glares at Harrison some time later, and Harrison returns the look with nothing but a knowing smirk. Rinse, repeat, rinse, repeat.

He wonders if his friend is aware of how little Antonio’s uttered the word no to him. Once, maybe, or twice, in the beginning, before the affection had seeped into his bloodstream like a venom. Unlike a venom, however, it refuses to kill him, instead keeps him alive and suffering like some sadistic sort of punishment for falling so stupidly in love with a man who might just think far too little of him to even notice his constant desperation to be seen. Antonio’s known love only once before, in Izulu, and though it had felt real and all-encompassing at the time, it’d been the sort of love children share, innocent and pure. He doesn’t know why love, real love, like the one he practically radiates in waves for Elijah Falvey, is spoken so fondly about. He thinks it’s comparable to dangling off a cliff by your feet, gripped by the person who holds your ill-advised affection.

Sometimes he wishes Elijah would just let him go, frankly. Fall straight down and hope for the fucking best.

It’s easy to come out of his usual self-pitying cycle when he feels Elijah’s shoulder bump against his, laughing so boisterously it eases something in Antonio’s psyche. Pathetic, mind you, but clearly commonplace enough that he feels his shoulders relax almost instinctively. “That was your fault,” he points out, because he can. “Half of it, anyway. Can’t believe you two can only agree on something when it’s putting us all in danger,” he jokes. You lead, Elijah challenges, slowing his pace down some. Antonio raises an eyebrow teasingly — surely Elijah knows better than to grant him any sort of power here — but he doesn’t follow-up with a joke, so he supposes he doesn’t know better. 

Glancing down at Elijah’s ridiculous choice of footwear — Harry’s fucking slippers — Antonio shifts his focus to somewhere over his friend’s shoulder, spotting glowing blue in the midst of yellow street lights and the dim illumination of the moon. Growing up in Texas, it’s easy to spot the temporary LED lights some farmers set up during the night when they’re working out on the field. Feels a little optimistic, to think this might be the case at two in the morning, but it’s more of a lead than they had before. So either they find a cornfield, or some aliens’ spaceship. Either way, a successful night, he thinks. Maybe he’ll get abducted. What a fucking way to go.

He takes a couple of steps back, smirking at Elijah. “Alright,” he holds his arms out in a challenge. “Do try to keep up, Falvey.” With that, he races past him, cackling as his worn-out sneakers slap against the cracked pavement. The rough ground jars his ankles with every stride, but he doesn’t care. He deserves a head start, anyway, with how fucking ridiculously long Eli’s legs are. Glancing back for a moment, he calls out, “Don’t get lost, fucker,” as he continues running straight for the LED light that may or may not indicate the presence of a corn field or a spaceship. 

The thing is, Elijah knows — objectively speaking — that Harrison’s idea is bad at best and a complete waste of their fucking time at worst. He knows that Toni is thinking it, too. The look that immediately crosses over the guitarist’s face as he explains is the same exact one that he physically stopped himself from displaying earlier in the week when it was first proposed to him. It's unmistakably doubtful, easy to read underneath the scattered streetlights that hardly illuminate them, if not a little judgmental. Years of close proximity tell him as much, even as he's yet to utter a single word in response.

He can’t help but feel obligated to indulge Harry, though. Not because his ideas are notoriously any good — there's a reason that he and Toni hold most of the creative control, after all — but because, well, he always does. And always will, probably, until the end of goddamn time, because Harry has a habit of looking at him like he hangs the moon whenever he agrees to something egregious, and Eli has a habit of perpetually chasing the fluttering feeling in his chest that it gives him. It gets him almost nothing else, in the end, just about every time — even a simple thank you for their work as they claw away at his request is hardly guaranteed — but that doesn't matter to him. It's more about making him happy, anyway. The worth that suddenly floods his system is enough to make up for the lack of ... anything else.

He also can't say all of that. Can’t exactly admit it to himself, either, if he’s honest — which is why he winds up being more sheepish than anything as Toni’s opinion is finally voiced aloud, his palm reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. “Yeah, I know,” he admits, pointedly avoiding his friend’s gaze as he kicks a few pebbles on the ground with the toe of his shoe. They scatter against the uneven pavement and it provides an excellent distraction. “But maybe we can simplify it in other areas to make up for it? I dunno — it was just a thought.”

The silence between them is awkward, at least in Eli's head, who's now thinking that his metaphorical dick-sucking is painfully obvious. He fears that Toni — who knows him too well, as it is — can pick his brain apart, otherwise why else would he pre-emptively agree to something so ridiculous? He sucks in an expecting breath, like he's waiting for something more confrontational than—

This definitely feels more east to me, by the way.

The air he exhales is laced with relieved laughter. “Oh, fuck off, don't even start!” He shoves Toni's shoulder. “Next you're gonna start tellin' everyone it was me that got us all lost in Paris when we both know it was Rome who wanted to walk around without a bloody map.” Perhaps, it was a mix of both — Eli's lack of internal compass and Roman's bullheadedness — but he's not about to admit to such a thing. Instead, he slows down a little and says, “You lead, then. Take us North.”

[eatspages-a]

@feedsfears / for elijah.

---------

Because he’s feeling a bit shit today, he’s more than willing to make himself feel worse. For example, international travel is something he used to do with his parents, and now they’re dead, and he misses them. A little something extra to hammer himself over the head since he’s feeling helpless and his assistants are... lukewarm whenever he’s around. Great feeling to drag around when he’s trying to find an answer to stop the next ritual of the Stranger.

Still, an unfamiliar face at the Usher Foundation will do for a change of pace. He hopes that he’ll be able to find something here, especially since the Watcher’s been tugging him this way.

“Um, hello,” he starts, trying to grab the attention of one of the staff with both words and a mild hand wave, “I’m Graham Folger, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute and I was wondering if I could have a look at your statements.” He coughs, then adds, “I have spoken to the Head of your, uh, Foundation about this before I came over.” Couldn’t look or sound any less professional.

[howanangelcries]

Timestamp: Week 1 — WORKPLACE. Opposite: Elijah Loomis @dcathsxkiss Character: Lisette Taylor

“Oh come on!” Lisette exclaimed from where she sat atop her desk, legs flailing under the opening of her desk as if she’d just taken a copious amount of drugs. “We have to go,” she pleaded. Spending the whole night watching documentaries about cold cases with a recurring theme of forests, she noticed a pattern. Tiny, missing pieces of evidence. A broken nail, bodily liquids, hair strands that seemed to blend in with the color schemes of the earth. “This is Mistpitch, for Christ’s sake. I personally think we’d be missing a grand opportunity to get ahead of things. Hell, we could even maybe break national news if we found something,” Lisette murmured, attention flying around as she searched for her keys. Where were they…? “Just one hour,” she pouted, lip jutting out. “Then I can buy you and Noah all the food y’all want.” Granted it was nearly dinnertime, she was to clock out from the paper and more than likely, binge on more docuseries that she did not need to be watching, but perhaps, this would be a nice diversion.

[nobilitylost]

@fcade​ | starter call | kitae & elijah

Third drink and he was still waiting. Kitae wasn’t the most patient person on the planet on the best of days, but when he had other places to be and other people to see, someone running late was a massive annoyance. It helped – a minuscule bit – that he was in a club with decent enough scenery. People watching was one of his things, both as a past time and as a byproduct of his work, so it was nice just to watch the ebb and flow of humanity around him.

“Nice show,” he said, briefly casting his eyes on the man he’d seen on stage just a bit earlier. Then it was right back to watching the door, waiting on his business associate to finally make his presence known. “But I thought for sure the guy in the black jacket was going to have to be led out by security.” That had been a scene in the making, but luckily the man’s equally drunk friends had managed to calm him down. “I’m Kitae, by the way. You haven’t seen a short, heavy-set guy with glasses and a desperate attempt at growing a beard, have you? He’s running late.”

[eroltilki]

“Oh, she’s a genius,” Erol said playfully. There was a part of the statement that he felt was entirely accurate but he’d been at home to watch Zara do some truly ridiculous things when she was hyper so he couldn’t help but joke about it to the slightest extent. “Especially when she gets really excited and trips when she runs into the room— it doesn’t happen that often and I’m always worried she hurts herself but then she pops up and goes on like she just didn’t do anything at all and it’s the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.” He explained, chuckling. “Good to meet’cha, man. D’you have a pet at home too or are you just a fan of the dog park? I’m a big dog guy so I’d probably just hang out here to relax even if I didn’t have Zara. Which…” He paused, shaking his head with a grin. “Might be a little weird, actually, now that I’m saying it out loud.”

@elliot-chapman

"That might be the two things combined. Or maybe she's just a very smart girl. That's also another very reasonable explanation," Elliot added, smiling at the dog who was off chasing after her toy. There was something absolutely adorable about the way she made her way back to them, all too proud that she held the toy well in her mouth. Taking the toy from the other man, he nodded before throwing it to the other end. "I'm Elliot. It's nice to meet you both."

[tasha1x1]

@elcquents​

“It’s been a minute,” she commented as she made her way over to Eli, “How is my baby brother doing? ” she took the opportunity to pinch his cheek. No matter how old he is, she will always take any chance she gets to embarrass him. It’s how she shows her love. But, to be fair, there was a time when Eli loved when she was affectionate with them. Albeit, he was really young.  

[skadhis]

                    *     FT. @infinitescul​ PLOTTED STARTER

                her father had warned her that midgard was far different to jotunheim, and though she knew the words he spoke were true, she wasn’t aware of just how true they were until she began walking village from village. aside from the people of this world, it looks very similar to the forests surrounding thrymheimr.                as a young woman travelling alone, skadi gets stares. she doesn’t exactly hate them, but she does wish people wouldn’t fix their eyes on her all the time. the young giant just wants to experience the other realms in a way her fellow jotnar have never. skadi can almost taste the stories she’ll come home with.                 she comes to a small hut, built well enough, until she sees the myriad of children that live in it. part of her knows asking for shelter for the night would be too much for this large family, but hospitality rights are practised in most -- if not all -- of the realms.                 the giantess clears her throat, hoping the noise is enough to garner the attention of the brown-haired young man outside. “excuse me?” she asks, giving him a kind look with an equally hospitable smile. “i was wondering if i might trouble your family for the night; i’m travelling and there’s no tavern for at least five leagues. i -- i have some coin i could give you,” she offers, fishing through her bag to produce a few pieces of gold and silver.