#v. on the side of syde's seaside by the sea

[bcntbouquet]

@everyoneismytoy // cont'd [ x ]

“... We’ll have our freedom, Felix, and it’s sooner than you think...” Derward swallowed thickly, the weight of what he was about to reveal making him feel winded. “I found the bottle... It was inside of that hideous puppet theatre thing in the foyer, if you can believe that... I’m not lying... the whole back comes off, and there’s a compartment inside, and that’s where the bottle’s been hiding probably ever since he tried to poison you...” Jennings moved closer to Felix, putting his arms around him, resting his head on his strong shoulders.

“I didn’t touch it with my bare hands,” he said, raising his head to look Felix in the eye, “and I was careful to put everything back to where it didn’t look like anybody had tampered with it... If we can get it to the police, without identifying ourselves, I know things will start to turn around for us... There were all kinds of prints on it, and that kind of poison lingers even when it’s dried up... There was GLITTER on it, too, so it’s safe to say your lip print or mouth dna or whatever’s still gotta be on there as well...”

[bcntbouquet]

She was right to question Derward; he really didn’t have the capacity to be selfish. Which is why, when it came to wanting not just something but another PERSON entirely, that he pondered selfishness in relation to his own.

Where? Where had she been his whole life? Why hadn’t they met sooner…

He didn’t believe there was actually an answer to any of his questions—or at least, not a good one—but he kept asking himself anyway. And once her fingers reached his skin, he asked them allover again.

“… You ever heard that song, Want Ads by Honey Cone?” A beat. “I’m the ‘young trainee’…” He was trying to tell Delta he had no experience in love… Telling her in the only way that might keep him from crawling back into seclusion.

Delta let out a small giggle at the conversation about the adventure. She felt a wave of warmth pool across her cheeks as she let her eyes drift down. In truth, they could go to a walmart and she was certain that they could have fun together. It was a rare find, to find someone who was so easy to be around. To have someone who fit into your world and life so effortlessly.

Delta also had no doubt in her mind that he cared about her, and that he wanted to be around her. It was a bit different than what she was used to. A cruel part of herself seem to be anticipating for a shoe to drop. She half anticipated he might get bored or lose interest in her friendship. However when those doubts crept in he always had a way of whisking them away.

Delta watched as his hand moved in hers, the touch was safe, and gentle. The hue on her cheeks deepened as she felt the warmth creep up to her ears. She hated how easily she was able to blush. The drumming of her heart in her chest was thumping so hard she worried he might be able to hear it, or feel it.

He spoke her name, and her blue hues stayed lock onto his expression. Attempting to read, decode, and understand what he was thinking, what was coming next. "You? Selfish?" She furrowed her brows. There was not a selfish bone in his body as far as she was concerned.

She was starting to understand now, what he was thinking and what he was trying to relay to her. Her stomach rolling in on itself as she tried to think of what to say or do. But maybe this was not the time for thinking. She reached out letting her fingertips lightly slip along the edge of his lovely jawline. "I am not seeing anyone. And I am fine if you want to move at a slower pace. We would want to be careful right? You're too important to me not to be careful."

[rightxonxmain-archived]

@everyoneismytoy // cont'd [ x ]

"... Dee-tails," snorted Derward, giving Felix an affectionate noogie on the top of his head. As much as he enjoyed studying Felix's old stomping grounds, the fact that it had Oliver germs everywhere bothered him quite a bit. He didn't touch a door knob without a tissue in his hand first and he didn't use the Saltburn toilets or showers until he'd sprayed them them down with disinfectant before each use.

"... You know he goes around the house, naked? I saw it. I wish I hadn't, but I did... But you don't need to go looking now just 'cause I told you... If you wanna gawk at a body, I'm right here... and I always will be, Fe..."

Derward resolved never to lay or sit on any furniture without spreading a sheet or blanket over it beforehand; especially in the bedroom. Who knows what kind of things Oliver did in there.

"I've been thinking... What if we don't kill him, but we Christmas Carol him, so to speak? Not that he deserves redemption, what he's done is unforgivable even by Christians' standard... but it would get him out of here, possibly 'cause a natural death via heart attack, and at the very least it's a way to get rid of him without adding to your mounting list of felonies..."

[bcntbouquet]

muse: DJ, private detective, 26

open to: anyone 21+

suggested connection(s): old friend running into him for the first time in years / someone who has a crush on him but hasn’t had the nerve to ask him out / someone who comes to him for his detective services

@indiestarter

Moving to the seaside didn’t mean every day was a beach day, but thankfully today actually was… The amateur sleuth could presently be found, shirtless, scribbling some notes down on a piece of paper; specifically, the blank back of yesterday’s specials menu at the cafe inside of Syde’s Seaside—The Inn where Derward resided, and where, off the side of, he ran his humble detective agency.

He raised the index finger of his free hand, continuing to write with the other hand. Music played over a set of old foam-ear headphones, muffling any words the other person might have said to him in that moment. For anyone familiar with the track, there was no mistaking the hypnotic E minor manner of Phil Collins’ Second Home By The Sea which leaked out from the p.i.’s Walkman.

[bcntbouquet]

📸 for dee

[bcntbouquet]

"... Short answer? I'm like you, now-- A detective... Boy, Nancy, I really thought you'd be pleased to see me after all these years... But maybe you are pleased and you're just afraid of a little competition..." Subtle wiggle of kempt, thick brows. His eyes were even more playful than they had been, back when she knew him. Things were definitely looking up for him all over his life, but running into Drew was perhaps the most unexpected-- AND his favourite.

So many times he wished he had told her how much she inspired him, and so many times he figured he'd never get the chance to correct that particular mistake. Now that she was here, Derward forgot what he'd wanted to tell her all this time.

"Why don't we go someplace special, celebrate our reunion? I'm all legit now," he said, rolling his eyes, "so I can finally take you out proper."

~Open to All~ Muse: Nancy Drew

"What are you doing here?' She gifts an exasperated sigh.

[bcntbouquet]

open to all mfnb 21+

muse: dj, 26, private investigator

connection: any. client, friend, budding romance, etc. feel free to dm to plot/discuss.

setting: his office off the side of the inn.

"—I'm not sleeping!"

He jerked his head up from the desk, tears at the corners of his eyes and some spittle at his mouth (the latter, which, he hurriedly wiped away).

[bcntbouquet]

summary: dee was paid to investigate an infidelity case, not knowing who is involved, only to recognise one of them as y/m! But just how involved are they? he doesn't want to know!

open to: mfnb 21+

Jennings peered through the vent at the figure in the adjacent room. He'd collected enough information to report back to the person who'd hired him, and he was never one to stick around longer than needed... so why wasn't he leaving?

Well, it turns out it wasn't just any old adulterer, but a good friend of his. He was so surprised to see them, he ended up hitting his head and drawing attention to himself.

"Squeak... squeak?"

[bcntbouquet]

open rp / detective verse muse: derward "dj" jennings. struggling pi. connection: landlord, roommate, other. free to discuss.

"If you're gonna lock me outta my own place, just do me a favour... W-Will you feed the birds that are outside the window?"

[bcntbouquet]

Derward could only shrug. Had their places been switched, he wouldn’t have guessed his answer either.

The drink, after just a few sips, had already started coursing through his system. “Damn, you’re nice.” The offer of a bowl to doctor himself at the bar came as quite a surprise. If he had even suggested playing doctor at the cafe attached to the inn he lived off the side of—And he was more or less considered one of their own, there—Minerva would’ve just laughed in his face and said something about getting his walking papers in order.

“… I am… so… flattered if THAT’S,” Veterinarian, he meant, “the vibe I’m giving off…” Jennings rarely ever drank, so it was hitting him extra hard, that hardest drink on the menu. “Detective, actually. But even that’s kinna blowin’ smoke up my own dress… Yeah… I’m moreuva glorified lost-’n’-found sorta guy, I guess is what I am…”

"Out of all the answers you could have given me, that wouldn't have even been in my top 100 guesses," he jokes. Miles continues to work as they talk, grabbing nearby abandoned glasses and dumping their contents in the sink so he can put them in the wash. There aren't a lot of people at the bar, which makes for easy conversation. He notices when he moves to grab the drink and the scratches come into view. Miles inhales through his teeth, "that is bad," he sympathizes. "I think spirits work better as a disinfectant when you pour them directly onto the wound," he advises, "let me know before you do that though, I'll grab you a bowl to do it over, less to clean up later." His words are light, easy, spoken by a man who has been doing variations of this same job for a long time. "What line of work are you in, then? Wait, let me guess, you're a veterinarian?"

[bcntbouquet]

dee, struggling private eye w/ trust issues, 26 open to all 21+

"... Don't ever call me DOLL."

[bcntbouquet]

muse: dj, 26, private eye

open to: mfnb 21+ {{ new and old friends welcome! }}

summary: y/m encounters him on the shore of the beach—scrubbing his clothes in the water using rocks, pebbles, and some ugly little lump of lye-soap he's been told won't hurt the environment like regular detergent would.

"Laundry room at the inn is down for maintenance..." Jennings explains, though truthfully the other person hadn't posed a question yet. He doesn't look up from the basin, saving all his focus for a particularly stubborn coffee stain among his favourite blazer's lapels.

"Inconvenient as hell, sure, but I needed the upper body workout if I'm being brutally honest with myself..."

[bcntbouquet]

muse: derward, private investigator, 26.

open to: mfnb 21+

connection: a friend, a former neighbor or someone from his past, a person who is injured or otherwise obviously in need of help, a complete stranger, a criminal, a killer, a strange creature... i'm up for anything from fluff to horror/thriller! whatever your vibe is!

summary: dj wakes to find someone/something standing at his door in the wee hours.

"... Someone there?"

DJ had no concept of time, having fallen asleep long before his true 'bedtime'. A slow (literally not a single client...) day at the office and the distant crashing of waves resulted in an impromptu nap. One that was cut—Long? Short?—by the sudden sound of rapping at his door.

"We're open!" he called desperately, unlocking the door with one hand as the other wiped groggily at his vision. After a few seconds, he was shocked to see the dark of night and equally (if not more) shocked to see the figure standing nearby.

[bcntbouquet]

"... I escaped my old life to become a detective and you escaped your old life to... stop being one... Granted, you were into shit I would never dream of getting myself involved in but it's pretty funny, don't you think?" Derward wasn't a hugger but he was an undisturbing-pat-on-the-shoulder type and now that Gordon was here he barely hesitated to do so.

"I'm glad you're still alive... I don't see too many familiar faces these days... But then again that's the intention," he added gravely.

Plot: Gordon has stopped being a detective and moved out to the country, to escape his old life. Your muse finds him

// open

"Hi. Is everything okay?" Gordon grinned brightly as he walked into the room.

[bcntbouquet]

open rp / mfnb 21+

summary: DJ fell asleep with headphones in and y/m passed by and tripped on the cord and broke his walkman!

The passerby's feet had met with the cord, sending a sleeping Jennings tumbling out of his lawn chair; the tired young man woke only upon impact with the ground. He looked as tired and achy as he felt, standing up and lowering his sunglasses (the purple divots beneath his eyes evident with the exposure to the light) to meet the wide-eyed stare of the person who had ruined his afternoon nap. Soon, he'd learn that wasn't the only thing they'd ruined...

"Do you see this!?" he grills with a shriek.

[bcntbouquet]

“🎲 dee x Felix

send “🎲” (or "dice") for me to randomize the following settings and write you a starter set within whichever one we get

a grocery store past midnight, the only other people in the store are the workers

It was late—going for 1 o'clock in the morning—The store was empty of customers, save for the two tragic lovers on the scene, and the lack of pressure to move swiftly through the aisles was, in and of itself, daunting. The strange life he lead as accomplice to a serial murderer was not the worst way to live, in Derward Jennings' experience; he was so used to being a stoical head on squared shoulders in this relationship, that anything more frivolous than than that 'caused his circuits to nearly short out. Grocery shopping was anything but frivolous, however. Dee simply had his priorities—like his nerves—in a bunch.

They couldn't eat anything that Quick had in the kitchen at Saltburn, so they had to buy whatever supplies they needed, when they needed it. The only problem with that is that neither he nor Felix were excellent cooks, which lead to lots of boxes and cans. But he had a boyfriend now, one that he very much intended to keep, so DJ resolved to try to get better at meal prep. Things wouldn't always be this glum, after all... Even if Catton did end up in prison, it wouldn't be forever. Not with the things he'd gone through before breaking to the point. That had to count for plenty. Insanity plea, blahblahblah. Add good behaviour. Honestly, the list could go ON and that wasn't even coming from Derward at his baddest of ass.

"... God, it's so weird looking at all this food... I don't even know what you like to eat, not really... I mean, I know what you like as shelf-stable goes but I've never gotten to share a home-cooked meal with you..."

Derward turned with a deep breath, looking over at the stately Felix for his two-cents on things. Without caring who saw, he put both arms around his partner in a hug, head on the other's chest.

"I'm not that skilled at food in general, but I'd like the chance to fix you something... It's probably high time for me to work on my more domestic qualities... Not for any particular reason, mind, but I never fell in love 'til we met, and," he sighed once again, " 'till we met I figured I'd never settle down, either, and I guess I just let myself get rascally..." He shook his head. DJ didn't dislike himself, but he saw lots of room for improvement. At least where a husband-figure was concerned. Being the support system he'd never had was quite gratifying. Even if, in the end, it came from an entirely selfless place in his heart.

"I miss dyeing my hair... You've never even seen me with it dyed... Geez... That's a mind fuck right there, boy howdy..." Porcelain digits found their way to the cosmetics portion of the store, encountering colours he hadn't seen in his many prior years of maintaining a washed-out artificial red amid naturally brunette curls. He'd only stopped the dye jobs as an attempt to sophisticate his image as a new face in the world of professional detecting. Now without an office, and no longer being surrounded by a much older generation of townsfolk, he didn't see any reason not to resume his old habits.

Unless.

"Would you-" He leaned onto the hair care shelf, having (SLOWLY) put a few feet of distance between himself and Felix. Wincing pensively, he mustered the rest of the courage required to ask the question that was on his brain "Would you still think I looked sexy?"