zkbarnes-blog

[zkbarnes-blog]

“I can’t imagine there are a lot of rich apple-bobbing experts.” Wasn’t that more of a Midwest thing? Wooden barrels and hay bales? “You might be safe on that front.” 

“The Hamptons, huh? I can’t wait for some rich bloke to tell me how to properly bob for an apple.”

[zkbarnes-blog]

“Love and dedication?” That… actually made some small bit of sense. He’d had his share of over-full desk-side trash cans, torn-up first drafts, fists in his hair – he’d ruined stuff he cared about in order to get better. Sort of. He knew how that wored. Maybe. He’d just never been as glad about it as she seemed right now, her teeth all lined up in a row.

Plus, love didn’t usually come with knives.

Zion’s skepticism showed in the way his eyebrows dipped, the way he leaned closer before catching himself and thumbing the edge of the cafe table instead. “I’d be scared I’d ruin them,” he said. She sliced so easily through the rubber, like she’d done it a hundred times. “That doesn’t really seem like a problem for you.”

“Well, no, I’m definitely doing that,” Grace laughs. She looks up at her new guest, smiling. “I’m breaking them in, not destroying them. This is an act of love and dedication, not rage,” she laughs.

[zkbarnes-blog]

task 004: headcanons, etc.

Tinkering. Zion’s family income being what it was, he didn’t qualify for very much financial aid – and even back in early college, he wasn’t interested in explaining the situation to the Bursar at Brown. A part-time job at the local mechanic’s shop was his safest bet: hands-on experience with machinery, a fairly flexible schedule he could work around his studies, and no resume necessary to apply. He may have adapted to office life now, with his cushy Army contract and his own name-plated door, but his favorite days are the ones he gets to spend in the shop, supervising tests on prototypes he drew. Zion’s a tinkerer. He hopes to share that with Caitlyn as she gets older – the curiosity, the wonder – hell, he’s even bought her an old The Way Things Work book to start her off.

Bad influence? He feels terrible about this sometimes, he really does, but for the last couple of months, Zion’s been trying to get his younger brother Haris to consider a medical residency in New York. Haris has just started his final year at Baylor College of Medicine, and it would make sense for him to take a residency near his university – and Zion knows that, he does, but he’s so eager to have family back in his life that he’s been campaigning pretty hard for Columbia or Cornell instead. Haris isn’t super happy about the push. Of course, their parents are the opposite of happy about it – and his brother’s loyalty to the people who all but excommunicated Zion hurts a little more than he’s willing to admit.

Hannah. Zion’s relationship with Danielle was obviously the most meaningful one he’s ever had. His second most meaningful was the one he had with Hannah. He met her in April, 2004; he was a month from graduating with his Sc.M, and she was a semester into her A.M. in History. They dated for a year and a half, through his move to New York and her slow reneging of promises to join him there eventually, and even after she got her museum job in Boston, he was convinced they could make it work. They couldn’t. He doesn’t fare well with uncertainty, and too much of it was up in the air – the break-up happened slowly, over months, leaving the kind of aftertaste that ruined most dating attempts for the next few years.

Splash-on. Okay, so all the skincare specialists and dermatologists and shaving experts will tell you that aftershave splash is bad for your skin. Maybe they’re wrong, though, right? Does it really matter if they are? Zion grew up watching movies where men pat their faces down and wince at the menthol; he’s not about to trade in the liquid stuff for balm. It’s got a scent to it. It lingers. He buys the Truefitt & Hill stuff – Freshman, long-lasting – and it’s unique enough that he rarely uses cologne.

High heating bills. Going to school in the Northeast didn’t make him any better with the cold. Zion’s a summer person, through and through – he saves his air conditioning for when things get really bad, but keeps it off for anything below 90 – so when the temperature drops, his mood tends to go with it. He can’t deny people look better with frost-bitten skin. He just wishes New York winters were like vacation days, so he could keep the scarves and sweaters and overcoats and tensely chattering teeth to a few days a year.

Timothy Dalton, definitely. Zion cares a lot about James Bond. It’s one of those sleeper interests he doesn’t talk about unless prompted – or unless someone sees his Blu-ray box set, or the DVD box set he got before the Blu-rays came out. He grew up on James Bond movies (his third-grade dream job drawing was just him with a tuxedo on) and still turns to them when he’s having a particularly rough week. If he could’ve bought Spectre tickets this far in advance, he would have them taped to his refrigerator by now.

Profanity. He isn’t a prude. He just… doesn’t love cursing. It was always frowned upon at home, with his parents and his much-younger brother always around, and as he got older, the way he spoke got more important. Zion’s not awhat the heck kind of guy; he doesn’t say fiddlesticks or jeepers (he’s not a great-grandmother), and he tends to lean pretty heavily on Jesus Christ, or variants thereof. Plus, putting the truly rough swears on hold means he can save them for effect when he really needs them – namely, real anger, shock, or state-of-the-art sex.

Mensa. Zion’s IQ doesn’t break the bank. His parents paid pretty good money to get him tested as a child, and he paid pretty good money to re-test himself in his late 20s, and he falls at a Stanford-Binet 128. Mensa starts accepting at 132. He absolutely hates knowing this, and would never ever push an IQ test on his daughter – unless, of course, she started showing signs of prodigy.

SpaceX. If he could have any job in the world, he’d take a job working for Elon Musk. Humanitarian concerns aside (and, listen, Zion doesn’t not care about humanitarian concerns), the guy seems like he’s on the cutting-edge of technology with everything he does. SpaceX is just the coolest side of it: privatized space travel, rocket-building and Mars colonization and a NASA contract under its belt. He’s starting to feel unsure about working for the Army. And they’ve got their headquarters in California, where it’s sunny and dry – he knows he has to stay here to make things easier on Caitlyn, but he keeps SpaceX tucked away in case things ever go really far south.

Family. Speaking of making things easier on Caitlyn, Zion can’t stand the arrangement he’s made with Danielle. It’s the best one he could’ve hoped for, of course. They split the week right down the middle, and Caitlyn doesn’t have to change schools or city blocks or even buildings when they switch hands – but he missed her first walk, and her first words, and he knows he’s bound to miss a hell of a lot more as his daughter grows up. When she was born, one of the nurses took a picture of the two of them holding her; he hung it up in her room, so she never forgets that her parents both love her. But he knows living in the same apartment complex won’t keep their separation from affecting Caitlyn’s life. It definitely hasn’t softened the blow for him.

[zkbarnes-blog]

Passion has little to do with euphoria and everything to do with patience. It is not about feeling good. It is about endurance. Like patience, passion comes from the same Latin root: pati. It does not mean to flow with exuberance. It means to suffer.

Mark Z. Danielewski, House of Leaves (via wordsnquotes)

[zkbarnes-blog]

parkonpointe:

Grace realizes it’s probably really weird to be doing this in the middle of Carnegie Cafe. “It’s not as destructive as it looks, I promise,” she says laughing.

“So you’re not carving up your ballet shoes, then?” Maybe he’d been staring. Zion tried to mind his own business, and most of the time he succeeded, but dance stuff still struck his bones like a reflex hammer -- he could feel the pull, and he looked down to get away from it. “I’ve heard of burning your old clothes, but I’ve never seen anyone take a knife to them.”

[zkbarnes-blog]

mickeyhoffman:

Mickey was standing in the lobby of Park Avenue apartments waiting for the elevator to arrive. She knew she looked goofy standing there with a giant dinosaur hooded vest on but being the free spirited woman that she is, she didn’t mind all the stares. Finally the elevator doors opened and she walked in, as she was about to press the button for floor number 6 she saw someone coming up to the elevator. “Going up?” Mickey asked as she pressed the ‘hold door’ button. 

Caitlyn was going through an elevator phase. Something about the way it made her stomach feel on the way down, or just the chance to meet more people and babble on; he’d read to expect shyness in the toddler years, but all Caitlyn wanted to do was talk and talk and talk. Zion had taken to picking her up on the the way through the lobby, and she squirmed as they slid through the elevator doors, fingers in his collar. “Thanks,” he said, still making a serious face as the girl who refused to keep still. It was only once she whispered that he turned to see their companion: “Daddy, dragon. Dragon.” 

“Oh!” Zion blinked as he took it in -- the green, the headpiece, the ridged back. “Costume party, is it?” Caitlyn pressed her face against his shoulder and began to wail with a slow crescendo. “Dragon,” she said, and he was stuck reassuring, a sorry smile at the woman they were imposing on. “It’s okay, honey. She’s a friendly dragon. Right? You’re friendly?”

[zkbarnes-blog]

danielleatwood:

She almost drew blood when she bit down on her lip, stopping mid-step with his reach out for contact. Her heart rate didn’t speed up at first, no—it halted completely, and then she could hear the blood in her ears. Danielle couldn’t—didn’t want too—recall the last time he’d touched her intentionally, past the accidental brushes as they switched places holding Caitlyn, past the too close for comfort whisper fights. 

Frozen. Turned away from him. And she closed her eyes, squeezing them as if it’d help her get out of this situation, that some miracle would be bestowed upon her and he was just. . sleep talking. Nothing more, nothing less. 

He hadn’t said her name without an undertone of anger or forced indifference in a while. It made her lose a breath, a sharp inhale (breathe, Danielle, breathe). Her eyes were still closed, her body frozen in time, her mind choosing that single moment to go back to one slip of the tongue. 

Lately you’ve been unlovable. 

Danielle’s eyes opened in time, not to divulge further and further into that awful pit of harsh words exchanged. She turned her head, willing herself to look back at him now, over her shoulder. Him. With his drowsiness, his stumbling words, the look in his eyes was familiar once long ago. She let out a low breath. Tonight was supposed to be a good night. 

He was still touching her and he was still speaking incoherently, her own eyebrows scrunching in an attempt to understand, her lips parted ever so slightly. His last words made her laugh, just barely, short, genuine, that dimple forming from sincerity. It’d been too long. 

And then she turned again, towards him this time around. Her fingers grazed his wrist with the movement, eyes not dropping yet, too entranced in his. It was an easier gaze to meet. The gaze that made the stone cold girl melt. “It was—ended two hours ago,” she finally spoke, voice low, soft, daresay affectionate. 

Danielle’s words caught her throat as she realized. .there was a reason this wasn’t normal anymore. It shouldn’t be like the way it is. It wasn’t fair. But that’s the way life was—fair only because it’d been unfair to everyone at some point. “Hey,” she finally breathed, lips pressing into a gentle smile. She should’ve followed it with “you should go home now,” maybe even,  “you should go back to sleep—it’s late.” But that liquid courage was still present in her veins and she asked the one question she lived far too long without an answer too: “How are you? Everything—everything good?” 

He folded his legs closer, bent knees tugging the blanket along. Without the quiet noise of the tv, there were just the sounds of rousing sleep: his pants rubbing against the couch cushion as he straightened up, her earrings tinkling as she turned around, both their voices slower and lower from the early-morning hour.

2AM. Jesus.

Zion made to clear his throat, but he sniffled, instead – still left the windows open at his place, high-pollen summer be damned, even if it meant his eyes ringed a little red some days. He was sitting, now. Half. He could almost see her up-and-down, with her hair, and her heels. Give him a minute to adjust to the dim. “I’m okay,” he said, reflexively. “Toilet training’s been a nightmare. Work’s just – you know, it’s–”

He could never remember if it was dilating or the other thing, whatever your pupils do in the dark. He cut it off by closing his eyes, shaking his head. Without the quiet noise of the tv, it was like Ethan was right there over his shoulder – just make sure you don’t talk about work tonight – and he caught his cheek under his teeth. “I’m alright.” This could be his pillow, he was leaning on. “I sleep better on the nights I have her. I used to think it was the other way around. I don’t know."

I mean, he’d taken his pillow with him, when he left. This couldn’t be his pillow. But it could’ve been, at some point, right?

“She’s in her room,” he said. He should’ve led with that, instead of – whatever all this thinking was. Caitlyn, the whole reason he was here; Zion looked behind him at the hallway, pointing like she needed directions. “She wanted to say happy birthday in person. I couldn’t fight her. She’s too strong.” When he turned back to Danielle, he held his smile for a second, teeth and all. “Probably should’ve called first, I guess.” It would’ve been an almost sheepish apology, were he actually saying I’m sorry. “I didn’t want you to have to rush home. You look nice -- like you had a nice time.” Same thing. 

sleeping and waking || danielle & zion

[zkbarnes-blog]

[zkbarnes-blog]

mrdalecosgrave:

With a loud thump and sudden shake, the elevator came to a halt, causing Dale to look up from his phone. He narrowed his eyes as he quickly realized that they were stuck until any help bothered to show up. “Lovely,” he murmured, sarcasm laced across his words. He reached forward to press the emergency button, then leaned back against the wall with arms crossed. He looked over to the person standing parallel to him in the elevator, his temporary companion in the unfortunate situation. “Hope you didn’t have anything too important to get to.”

For a second, he thought he’d fallen asleep. It was a little bit like that, the elevator’s sudden stop -- like a jolt awake, and he pushed away from the wall he’d been leaning on, and he reached back for the railing to stay steady. Caffeinated nerves are always a little jumpy, that way. "Jesus Christ.” He gave himself a beat to settle down. Thumb on his eyebrow. “There was a delay on the subway, too. Stuck at 33rd for fifteen minutes.” 

Tonight was supposed to be his night with Caitlyn. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and held it up for a signal. Nothing. Elevators were dead zones, for all he knew; but the kid with him had been looking at his phone before, and Zion made his sigh as light as he could before opening his mouth again. “Is there any chance you have cell service? I really need to make a call.”

[zkbarnes-blog]

ethan-dawson:

“Thank you” Ethan responded to the woman’s compliment. He was standing in the lobby waiting for Zion until a short blonde-haired woman approached him. She was wearing shorts, flip-flops, and a crop top, not really his type at all but he flirted along with the woman simply to flatter her. It was his kind personality that allowed him to keep the conversation going and even flirt back a little. Ethan was wearing a black wool suit pants, a cotton long-sleeved white shirt, and black brogues. He looked like he walked straight out of a H&M catalogue but he knew he wanted to dress to impress tonight. It was going to be the first time in a while that Ethan and Zion had a night out just the two of them. The woman left making sure to put her number in his iPhone before walking away. She walked away exaggerating her switch with each step knowing Ethan’s eyes would immediately turn to her buttocks. 

The tall man stood there with his hands stuffed into his pockets as he continued to wait. For a good moment there he thought he’d have to go knock on Zion’s door and drag him out of the apartment. Fortunately he appeared walking down the stairwell and Ethan waved. “My man!” He knew tonight was going to be a good night, he could feel it. As they walked out of the apartment building Ethan finally answered. “Of course I know you’re capable of doing this on your own but where’s the fun in that?” Ethan reassured Zion. He wanted to make sure Zion didn’t feel too much pressure but instead focused on just having a good time. “You haven’t been in it lately which is exactly why I’m playing matchmaker. I don’t doubt your abilities Z, I’m simply going out as your… moral support tonight.” Ethan smirked. The fresh air felt nice considering how heavy the AC was running in the lobby. Due to the compliment he received before they even made it to the bar Ethan’s confidence was at an all time high already. “Where do you wanna head to first, Club Macanudo or Bemelman’s Bar? Have another place in mind? It’s your call.” The tall blonde man stopped right in his tracks and turned his positioning to face Zion. “Tonight’s your night Zion, where is it going to take us?” Ethan didn’t really care where they went, he knew they’d make it a fun night either ways. Ethan walked up to the curb and stuck his arm out for a cab driver. Luckily for him within seconds a taxi cab pulled up and Ethan opened the yellow cab door.

The thing was, Ethan really _was _Zion’s moral support. Maybe moral was the wrong word -- what do you call someone who reminds you to be a little indulgent, sometimes? Like he was perfectly happy with his blinders on, but then Ethan and Brigitte came along to remind him, just every once in a while, that there was a world out there beyond the elevator and the 6 line. 

He needed that. 

In the sudden humid heat of the evening, Zion reached up to fix his hair. It was never as cooperative as he’d like it to be -- stiff to its position, curling as soon as he let it go, he was almost always finger-combing it from one side to the other -- but he realized his habit, halfway, and slowly lowered his hand. “You really have to ask?” There was something almost (almost) intimidating about going out with Ethan. The guy’s whole job was serving drinks; no chance of finding a low-key, low-audience kind of place if you had friends like this. “No clubs. A bar, though...”

Plus, the taxi. Maybe Zion should’ve taken a shot before he got here. He wound up sliding into the backseat and checking his wallet for singles, so he could help out with the tip once they got there. The cabbie drove and stalled and drove again. Zion rested the side of his head against the window’s cool condensation. “Alright, come clean: how much of this wingman stuff did you have planned before I called?”

sidekicks || ethan & zion

[zkbarnes-blog]

danielleatwood:

God, is this really what separation anxiety feels like?

Danielle had convinced herself that one night away from Caitlyn wouldn’t be abnormal, of course not—she spent nights performing in Brooklyn while she was asleep a few floors down from her home, and all had been well for the most part. But maybe it was because she felt this odd sensation like her 31st birthday should be spent with Caitlyn, that she was just not as vibrant as she could’ve been at the start of her celebration. 

By the time the night started to get more lively, Danielle had loosened up. A few drinks eased her into a comfortable mood. She laughed at the jokes of her friends, about how old she was getting, the maturity that was only brought by motherhood becoming more and more prevalent in her actions and features. And she would roll her eyes because truthfully, she was embracing motherhood with open arms, no matter how fearful.

There was an attempt to get her to go home with a man, and then another, and then another, but Danielle shook it off with an apologetic smile. Sure, her job essentially oozed sexuality, but Jesus, it didn’t necessarily mean she always had the libido of an adolescent boy. 

2 am and lazy hugs and final ‘happy birthday’s were exchanged, Danielle was still standing in her towering Louboutin’s she’d gifted herself for the occasion, riding the elevator up to her apartment. The buzz of the alcohol lulled to a soothing melody that made her eyes droop with sleep, and the want to cuddle into her blankets growing stronger. Finally, after the pleasant ding of the elevator and the sound of the key successfully unlocking the door, she heaved a sigh, stepping out of her heels and hanging up her keys beside the door. 

It took a moment to register how the apartment was…different than the way she’d left it. Eyes darted around for some sort of explanation, instinctive defenses kicking in, and then they landed on a figure, still recognizable even at this distance; Zion. 

Confusion quickly took over the immense panic, as she glanced around her surroundings once more, making her way over to the kitchen, where the little sippy cup she often poured Caitlyn’s nighttime milk into was freshly washed in the sink. Eyebrows scrunched as she began to put the pieces together, figuring Caitlyn had likely willed Zion into coming back, maybe to surprise Danielle (and it did). Finally, her eyes landed on a fresh bottle of red wine, and a smile formed on her lips, still rouged from her application, knowing it was from Zion. 

Her feet continued to glide along the hardwood, up the small staircase, through her room. Checking up on Caitlyn was instinct, the smile growing as she watched silently as she slept, the moonlight illuminating her face. Quietly, she tip toed her way in, pressing a kiss to her cheek and tucking her back in just a bit before heading back into her own room. It was when she stepped foot back in that she heard the faint sound of the television playing and remembered. . Zion isn’t supposed to be here. 

But the second she’d walked back downstairs and saw his peacefully slumbering face, not a bone in Danielle’s body could forcefully wake him up and out of her house. It was out of the knowledge of his ridiculous sleeping habits that she sighed again, turning off the television and reaching for the spare blanket and pillow she kept for the times she fell asleep on the couch too. Ever so gently, she tucked the pillow in below his head and draped the blanket over his body, smoothing out the edges. 

One last look at his face it that would’ve been it, no lingering to smell his lingering aftershave, or relish the electricity that pulsed through the space separating them—but her self restraint was low, the alcohol and drowsiness taking it’s toll. Her lips pressed against his forehead, with an amount of foreign gentleness that contrasted greatly against their harsh words and cold stares. Her hand hovered his cheek just a bit too long, enough that she realized what she was doing and pulled away, almost in alarm. Shaking off her slip, she began to walk away from him, ready to head to bed. 

He’d never been a light sleeper.

There were nightmares that roused him awake, skipped exams and loose teeth, and he always snapped into place as soon as he heard that bell ring straight in his ear, but beyond that, Zion could sleep through a hurricane. Even the baby monitor couldn’t shake him up, in those early days when Danielle had stuck it on his nightstand; those nights, Caitlyn would’ve screamed her throat raw if it hadn’t been for her mother. He’d learned, since then. He’d gotten better.

When she lifted his head for the pillow, Zion rolled into it. Her fingers, curled over the edge of the blanket as she pulled it up around him -- he flattened his chest as she smoothed it over, ‘cause Zion had never been a light sleeper, but he wasn’t oblivious, either, not even in sleep. She held his face. She kissed his forehead. She -- she kissed his forehead, she -- 

Well, he was awake, now. He shifted against the pillow to the wet print of her mouth on his skin, letting out a little, light sigh as he drew an arm up closer to his head. 

Listen. 

Please understand. Please. Listen. He was still asleep, even if his eyes flickered open; he grabbed her wrist because it was there, and it had been touching him, and he couldn’t figure her out until his thumb was on her pulse-point. “Hey,” he breathed. “What--?” 

Slowly, like his shoulders were on strings, Zion drew himself up. “Danielle.” His shirt was wrinkled from hours of poor sleep, his hair matted where he’d pressed it into the arm-rest. He kept his fingers on her arm. He used his other hand to focus a tired eye. This wasn’t a dream, he thought. The apartment filled it in: foreign, unfamiliar, hers since he’d left. “Jesus, I’m sorry. You’re -- I shouldn’t have, uh --” Oh, he was all spinning consciousness and dry mouth, the way her hair was done up like that. “It’s your birthday.” Even blurred edges couldn’t filter out her lipstick. 

sleeping and waking || danielle & zion

[zkbarnes-blog]

sleeping and waking || danielle & zion

danielleatwood

It wasn’t enough to make the card; if Mommy was going to have a happy birthday, they had to hand-deliver it themselves. That’s what Caitlyn said, though not in so many words — polka-dot socks and a scarf by the door, reaching up for the handle, the crayon-heavy graph paper in her little hand. “I want Mommy,” she said. “Her birthday.”

Zion sighed through his nose. Slowly, so his shoes wouldn’t crease, he crouched down on the floor in front of her. They had already talked about this. It was all they’d talked about, all afternoon. “Mom’s at a party, honey. You can see her in a couple of days.”

Caitlyn shook her head.

“We can drop it off in her mailbox. How about that?” He eased the card out of her hand, which felt surprisingly like stealing, given her grip. “She’ll see it tomorrow, right when she wakes up.”

Caitlyn’s brow pinched in the middle, and she made her eyes very, very small.

He still had Danielle’s key. Maybe that was the wrong way to say it -- maybe he should say he’d been given Danielle’s key, that they’d made copies for each other’s keychains for just in case, left-behind stuffed animals or an extra bottle of L’Oréal Kids. It was not supposed to be meant for this. Felt like breaking in. One arm holding Caitlyn to his shoulder, the other pushing her door open, turning to close it again. This was an unfamiliar apartment now, and he had to turn the lights on to walk around; Caitlyn took off down the hall to put the card on her mother’s pillow. 

“Look,” he called to her, from his place by the coffee table. “See? No one’s home, Caity. I don’t know when she’ll be back.” (This was true. On his way up, in the elevator, the thought that she’d open the door to greet him had nearly made him take the stairs back down.) Caitlyn didn’t answer, and Zion took a second to breathe, rub his eyes, before going to find her. In her room, her hair was all static from the effort of taking off her clothes -- she was tugging at the button on her skirt, and when she saw him, she stuck her hips out to spotlight the problem. “Help,” she said. 

Zion had heard a lot about the terrible twos. How kids hit stubbornness like an overnight growth spurt, and all you can do is wait for them to adjust. Hysterics at the grocery store. Questions at every turn. Love to say the word no but hate to hear it — and he tried to follow the parenting books’ patient-but-firm rule, but he always wound up giving in.

He wanted to be mad. He really did. But she’d pulled out her pajamas all by herself. How can you stay mad at that?

She explained it to him while he adjusted the thermostat for her room. Birthdays were fun, and Mommy loved her. And it was sad to be alone on your birthday (never mind that she wasn't, that Danielle was never alone). But what about surprise? In the bathroom, as he passed a washcloth over her face, she took it away to hide behind it before showing her face again. "Surprise!" she said, to illustrate her point. Smiled with all her new chiclet teeth. "Mommy's gonna be so surprise." "Surprised," he corrected, and smiled at the sink.

She finally fell asleep around 10:30. He went over the rest of it in his head, from the couch: how he'd stay just long enough for Danielle to come home, swing back in the morning to check on Caitlyn. But with the television on so low, and the couch so comfortable, and the week's work still weighty on slowly-slumping shoulders, Zion's head was on the armrest in under an hour. Knee tucked up to his hip. Absolutely out for the night.

[zkbarnes-blog]

task 003: details, details, details

Here you go! Everything you’ve ever wanted to know about Zion (and a whole bunch of stuff you don’t want to know, too) can be found under the cut. Credit to thephoenixwrite’s character chart.

BASIC STATISTICS

Full name: Zion Khalid Barnes. Name origin: Both of their own parents having lived in the Middle East before coming to America, Zion’s parents chose a first and middle name that reflected their Christian Arab background. Name meaning: Zion is an Old Testament name, from the Hebrew word for a mountain near Jerusalem, which has come to mean monument or raised up. Khalid is Arabic, derived from the word خلد (khalada), and means to last forever. The surname Barnes has some dodgy etymology, but it’s either Anglo-Saxon, Norse, or Irish, and probably just means one who works in / lives near a barn. Nickname: Barney, Zi, Z. Nickname origin: Barney was all Danielle, playing with his last name; Zi and Z are more obvious shortenings. He also signs all his work documents as Z.K. Barnes, a way to skirt around his potentially-controversial name in such a military, political environment. Does s/he like the nickname?: The only one he can tolerate now is Z, honestly.. Sex: Cis male. Age: Thirty-four. Birthday: 27 October 1980. Place of birth: Banner Good Samaritan Medical Center, Phoenix, AZ. IQ: 128. Blood type: B+. Race: Caucasian. Ethnicity/Nationality: Arab-American (Egyptian). Sexuality: Heterosexual. Relationship status: Single, never married. Political allegiance: Registered Democrat. Criminal record: None.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

Faceclaim: Rami Malek. Height: 6'0" (1.84m) Weight: 160 lbs (72kg) Body type: Lean, with light muscles that blend into his bones. Eye color: Green. Need glasses/contacts?: No, though both of his parents grew into reading glasses, and he fears the same fate. Skin tone: Olive. Face shape: Diamond. Hair color: Black. Hair texture: Stubbornly wavy, prone to humidity curls. Describe hairstyle: It’s short. Can’t be too short, or it’ll be all curls – can’t be too long, or it’ll look sloppy; no, Zion tries to always stay in a sweet-spot where he can avoid styling products but still has enough to antagonize with his fingers. He’s happiest when there’s more length on top than on the sides. His new barber overdoes it. Grooming: Zion isn’t a compulsive washer, but he’s certainly a brush-teeth-twice-a-day, shower-seven-days-a-week kind of guy. Clean fingernails. Never more than a day unshaven. Distinguishing features: Frequent, faint freckles that mix with a few more prominent beauty marks on his forehead, chin, and right ear. Eyes round and wide like a cartoon character. Scars: Small faded scar just under the curve in his lower lip (childhood fall); linear scar on right forearm (kitchen clumsiness); thin scar near top of right ring finger (mechanical accident). Tattoos: None. Expressions: His default is thoughtful – brow low, lips parted (never did learn to shut his mouth) – and he transitions easily to more animated features. Expressive eyes means you’re always expressive. Keeping his face quiet is a fight. Describe his/her smile: Zion has noticeable nasolabial lines, which gain a lot of prominence when he smiles. A slight overbite has his smiles usually ending with a bitten lip, his bottom row of teeth rarely showing, though quiet, proud smiles are closed-mouth and almost never symmetrical. Who does s/he take after?: Physically? His father, for sure. Most of his features match up well with his father’s, though his face-shape and chin are more maternally-derived. Left or right-handed?: Right-handed. How does s/he dress?: Consciously. He doesn’t go too expensive with it, still content with Brooks Brothers dress shirts, though he’ll spring for Ralph Lauren if it matters. Solid slim-cut button-ups are his go-to for work, though sometimes brightly- or unusually-colored, with dress slacks and a belt. On his days off, he still prefers chinos to jeans. Long-sleeve t-shirts, occasionally. Almost never short. Why does s/he dress in the above manner?: Appearances matter to Zion, who grew up with money and then spent a good ten years in some serious debt. He wants to be taken seriously, to project a sort of calm authority, and to maintain some level of his personality. Any special accessories? If so, why are they special?: An Omega Geneve 1973, which his father had gotten the summer before medical school, and which he gave to Zion on the boy’s 18th birthday. His choice to wear it, and continue wearing it now, is equal parts defiance and pride. Something s/he always carries with him/her: His phone. Like, always. Weapons: None.

SPEECH AND LANGUAGE/COMMUNICATION

Pace of speech: Slow. His words linger, rolling after each other; most of his urgency comes through a shift in tone, not speed. Voice tone: Articulate and low. Accent/Dialect: Neutral American. The Southwest isn’t known for a strong accent, and living so long in the Northeast has made him awfully proud of that. Any favorite/habitual words or phrases? Curse words?: Jesus Christ (and its variations) are more common than outright curse words for Zion, who holds onto those for impact. He probably overuses look and listen as prefaces. Describe his/her laugh: Quiet. Silent, sometimes, all breath through his nose. The real laughs – the big ones, the noisy ones – come from shock. A few syllables of his wide mouth and proud hands. Describe general vocabulary or speech pattern: Educated and carefully-chosen, so long as he’s not in the middle of an argument. He stays away from provocative language. Mannerisms/demeanor?: People tend to interpret Zion’s understated, temperate demeanor as shyness. Really, he’s just confident, gracious, and awfully excitable. Is this character generally balanced or clumsy?: Balanced. Typical posture: It varies. If Zion carries his exhaustion in his eyes, then he carries his stress in his shoulders; they’ll stiffen in a slump, and he’ll lean, and he’ll struggle to stay straight. Creativity, too, will have him curling strangely in chairs. Describe their walk: Average? He doesn’t have a distinctive walk at all, though he walks with purpose most of the time. Describe their fighting style: He doesn’t fight physically. Verbally, though… Christ. When Zion’s in an argument, he’s in it to win. All of the courtesy goes out the window, and he’s left with vindictive pride that refuses to settle. Gestures: He fidgets when impatient or holding back. He uses his hands to talk when he’s explaining something, or sometimes when he’s excited (there is usually some overlap). Common/habitual gestures: Adjusting his watch, finger-combing his hair, tapping a pencil (or failing to twirl it).

EVERYDAY BEHAVIORS/HABITS

Personal habits/addictions: Zion developed a caffeine habit while in college, and he still hasn’t managed to kick it. He hasn’t really tried, honestly – what’s a few cups of coffee and a 5-hour energy every once in a while? Morning routine: We’ll go through a weekday without Caitlyn. He wakes up to a 6:00 alarm, which he snoozes until 6:15. By 6:30, he’s brewed a pot of coffee, and he starts on his first cup while reading the NYT and checking his email. He’s still half-asleep, of course — it takes an intentionally-lukewarm shower, a fresh, stinging shave, and a second cup of coffee to get him there — and by 7:15, he’s leaving for the subway. It’s half an hour to work on the green line. He’s never later than 8. Afternoon: If it’s still a weekday, he’s still at work in the afternoon. On a conference call, in a meeting, making a presentation, looking over estimates, tweaking a design, watching a test-run — all day, save for lunch, which he takes with coworkers whenever possible. Evening routine: Zion’s never finished with work at 7, but he aims to leave by then. He’ll go for a run, shower (at a proper hot temperature, this time) make himself dinner, try to multitask by watching Mad Men (he’s three seasons behind), fail to multitask, and then it’s whatever work he can get done from home before he starts nodding off around 11:30. Some nights, he’ll have a couple of beers with friends, or he’ll have an alumnus interview to do in the early evening, or he’ll wind up looking at children’s furniture online for way longer than he wanted to — some nights he just flat-out procrastinates. And these days, with his new work project, he’s getting home a lot later than he’d like. Sleep habits: Nodding off isn’t the same thing as sleeping. He may start to get tired early, but Zion rarely falls asleep when he wants to, bound to spend at least half an hour tossing and turning. This has very little to do with noise or light, though, as he can sleep through quite a lot, and is frequently slow to find his wits upon waking. He sleeps in his boxers, on his front, always on the right side of the bed. Does this character snore?: Lightly, during high-pollen months. Any special talents or skills?: He’s handy, definitely. Has an eye for fixing things. He’s good at technical drawing, too — sharp lines, negative space, details that don’t crowd the image — which carries over into some very minor sketches of non-work stuff that he’s pretty private about. He’s also an above-average cook, and his paper airplanes fly farther than anyone else’s. What is s/he particularly unskilled at?: Zion knows very little about art. He has a completely unremarkable singing voice. He’s only ever gotten hyper-anxious the six times he’s been high, he’s killed every plant he’s tried to grow, and cannot sell a lie. Hobbies: Does tinkering count? Anything he can do with his hands is something he likes to do, tired of all the office- and desk-work that comes with his job. He’s hoping to start volunteering with a high school robotics program. Zion’s also been working on re-learning Arabic (very slow-going), and he runs at least four days a week.

LIFE

Current Address: 740 Park Avenue, Apartment #375, New York NY 10021 Does s/he rent or own?: He rents. Does s/he live with anyone? If so, who?: His daughter lives with him on weekends, but otherwise he lives alone. Brief description of home: Zion lives in a two-bedroom, one-bathroom, single-floor apartment. It has a fairly open floorplan, with the kitchen, living room, and dining area all sharing a similar space. The furniture is modern, mostly dark colors, deep-stained woods and well-placed windows. What is their bedroom like? Because Caitlyn’s room was originally designed to be a study, and because Zion still really needs space to work from home, his bedroom is dual-purposed for now. His bed (a platform queen) is near the windows, with a nightstand to the right. A drafting table and a small bookshelf are closer to the door, next to a large bulletin board. His closet is walk-in. Describe the area in which s/he lives: Lenox Hill is one of the more antique, luxury neighborhoods in Manhattan. Art galleries, five-star hotels, and designer boutiques are close by, as is the Whitney Museum. Is this his/her ideal home and location? If not, what would s/he prefer?: Yes and no. Zion chose to get an apartment in 740 Park because it allows him to stay close to his daughter, so it’s certainly ideal for his situation. He’d probably prefer to live in Chelsea, where he could be close to the water, take Caitlyn on better walks, and be surrounded by a slightly bigger socioeconomic range. Home décor: Zion is not an interior designer. He chose his furniture himself, for the most part, but he needed a little help arranging it – help that involved a couple of his friends and a liquor debt. It’s clean, minimalist and downplayed, though it wasn’t exactly cheap. Does s/he drive? If so, what car?: Yes! He drives a 2011 Saab 9-3, black. Spouse/partner: Danielle Atwood, ex-girlfriend and partner in parenting. How did the character meet his/her spouse, and when did they get married?: They met while running in Central Park; he came back earlier the next day, and made a habit of running with her despite her clear lack of enthusiasm for a partner. After a few runs together, and a few shot-down date proposals, she finally said yes. Is this character still with his/her spouse? If no, why not?: No. They had completely different reactions to Danielle’s pregnancy, and the bitter misunderstandings that came from those differences drained out all the love they had for each other. Children: Caitlyn Atwood-Barnes, 2½ years old What’s this character’s relationship with his/her child(ren?): Zion shares custody of Caitlyn, who lives with him from Friday to Monday each week. He goofs off with her, misses her when she’s gone, and prioritizes her over everything else. Pets: None. Occupation: Aerospace Engineer. Job Satisfaction: High. Though he sometimes wonders if he wouldn’t prefer working for a private company like SpaceX or Boeing, he has a fair amount of freedom with his government job, and has no immediate plans to look elsewhere. Income: Roughly $240k a year. Finances: Comfortable! Zion’s salary may not compete with what some of his neighbors make, but working for the government allows him rent subsidies and other kickbacks that go a long way. As he makes more strides in his career, he stands out more as one of New York’s finest engineers – which helps him a lot when end-of-year bonuses come around. General health: Fine. In fact, save for a minor pollen allergy, Zion’s fit as a fiddle. Past health problems, if any: A yearly bout of pneumonia as a child wound up as an adenoid- and tonsilectomy.

FAMILY OF ORIGIN

Father: Riyad Barnes. Father’s occupation: Radiation Oncologist at Banner – University Medical Center. Father’s relationship to character: For much of his childhood and adolescence, Zion saw his father as a role model, of sorts; even if he didn’t follow in his path, Riyad taught him a lot about responsibility, masculinity, and prioritizing your life. They have not spoken since Zion was cut off from the family, but as Zion gets older (and begins to resemble his father more physically), he finds himself missing Riyad’s guidance. Mother: Mariam Barnes née Nabhani. Mother’s occupation: Gynecological Surgeon at Banner – University Medical Center. Mother’s relationship to character: Mariam was the more lenient parent in the household, and though Zion was never especially close to her, he has a lot of respect for her strength. She has been the least receptive to reconciliation, which plays heavily into some of Zion’s insecurities now that he has a child of his own. Did the character’s parents raise him/her? If not, why?: Yes, they both raised him. Are the character’s parents still together? If not, why?: Yes. Does the character live with his/her parents?: No. He has not been back to their house since the summer before his freshman year of college. Grandmother(s): Nena Barnes (paternal, deceased); Zahra Nabhani (maternal, deceased) Grandfather(s): Alim Barnes (paternal, deceased); Lukmon Nabhani (maternal) Grandparents’ relationship to character: Zion was quite young when his maternal grandmother died, and both of his paternal grandparents were deceased by the time he was born. Lukmon Nabhani, his mother’s father, is the only one he had an opportunity to know – he regrets not having spent more time with him before leaving Arizona. Does the character have siblings?: Yes. Haris Barnes, younger brother, 24. Siblings’ relationship to character: Haris was only eight years old when Zion left home. Their relationship has rekindled only recently, and mosly consists of phone calls and emails that still haven’t made it past the initial strain. How has this character’s relationship with their siblings changed since childhood?: Zion and Haris have more than a ten year difference between them, which made it difficult for them to get along as children. But Zion’s move to the East Coast left a big impression on Haris, and catching up on each other’s lives is bringing them closer together. Extended family and relationship to character: Zion has a large family on his father’s side, with four uncles and several cousins who all live in the American (South)West. He receives facebook notifications from them from time to time, but they have not made any significant contact. Describe his/her family life and dynamic while growing up: Despite their demanding jobs, Zion’s parents had a surprisingly traditional relationship. They were affectionate for anniversaries, civil for most conversations, and their arguments were rarely in front of their children. Zion and Haris were given what he now calls “fake freedom” – they were allowed to choose for themselves, so long as they chose from the options their parents handed them. Rather than argue, Zion worked surreptitiously against them until college.

THE PAST

Hometown: Phoenix, Arizona. Describe his/her childhood: His biggest obstacle growing up was his parents’ micromanaging. He lived comfortably in wealth, had a somewhat active social life, and was never threatened with parental abuse. Earliest memory: It’s almost definitely apocryphal, but he swears he remembers being roughly two years old, attempting to climb out of an inflatable kiddie-pool, falling backwards, and crying. It was hot outside. His father’s shirt was blue. Happiest memory: The birth of his daughter. Listen, just about everything good in Zion’s life right now is Caitlyn, and the first time he got to hold her is just unbeatable. Saddest memory: He’ll tell you it was realizing he’d missed Caitlyn’s first steps, or realizing he’d missed Caitlyn’s first words, but Zion’s saddest memory is telling Danielle that he was moving out. Breaking up their family, and accepting defeat. Most embarrassing memory: When he was in his first semester at Brown, still trying to learn how to balance school and two part-time jobs, he arrived late to a physics final. He flat-out begged the professor to give him a chance to make it up, citing his good attendance and class participation, only to nod off halfway through the make-up and still fail it. He later dropped the second job. Most important event in the character’s life that still affects him/her and why/how: Zion’s parents’ decision to cut him out of their lives has completely shaped who he has become. On the plus side, it’s given him a greater appreciation of family, opened his eyes to the struggles of working-class or poor Americans, and instilled in him a nearly-unrelenting need to persevere. Unfortunately, it’s also made him competitive, obsessed with success (financial or otherwise), and oftentimes selfish, as he believes he’s ultimately the only person he can rely on. Biggest disillusions from childhood: Even “days off” are still work days. Pets aren’t worth the effort. Snow is never fun for more than half an hour. People can be kind and still be racist. It is, in fact, not enough to just want something really bad. How much school did s/he attend? Did s/he like school?: Zion has a high school diploma, an Sc.B. in Engineering Physics, and an Sc.M. in Solid Mechanics. Despite a downright stellar academic record, he struggled with staying focused in high school, and had to work very hard for his grades. What is the worst thing this character has ever done?: Once, in a fight that would otherwise have barely grazed their Top 10 Worst, he called Danielle “unlovable.”

EMOTIONAL CHARACTERISTICS:

Moral alignment: Describe the character’s sense of morals: What do they consider taboo?: Four temperaments: Describe the character’s etiquette: Describe the character’s sense of self-control: Spontaneous or structured? Structured. Instinctual or logical?: Instinctual. How does this character act in public?: How does this character act in private?: How does this character act around family and friends?: How has this character most changed from youth?: How has this character remained the same?: Has this character dealt with the loss of someone they knew?: Besides his maternal grandmother, who died when Zion was 4, he has not known anyone who died. How does this character deal with or react to:

Danger/Fear:

Change:

Sex/Flirting:

Rejection:

Loss:

Pain:

Stress:

Peer pressure:

Guilt:

Being wrong:

Being criticized:

Being insulted:

Offending others unintentionally:

Praise:

Being loved:

Being hated:

Humiliation:

How does this character express:

Anger:

Sadness:

Fear:

Happiness/Excitement:

Love:

Lust:

Stress/Anxiety:

Dislike:

Approval:

What does this character think about:

Marriage:

Children:

Old age:

Sex:

Love:

Friendship:

Family:

Homosexuality:

Society:

The opposite sex:

The same sex:

Money:

Politics:

Religion:

Destiny:

Magic:

Racism:

science:

Nature/Animals:

The past:

The present:

The future:

Their role in society:

Drugs/Alcohol:

Killing/Murder:

Education:

Foreign/Unknown:

How does this character react in a crisis?: How does this character generally express themselves?: How does this character view life?: How does this character view death?: How does this character imagine his/her own death?: How does this character view society?: What does this character want out of life?: What would this character like to change in his/her life?: What motivates this character?: What discourages this character?: What makes this character happy?: What makes this character sad?: Describe why this character acts the way they do:

RELATIONSHIPS WITH OTHERS

Relationship skills: Who are his/her best friends?: Who are his/her other close friends?: Who is his/her confidant/mentor?: Who are his/her rivals?: Any secret attractions/crushes?: First crush/romantic love: Current girlfriend/boyfriend/spouse: None People s/he dislikes: Whom does s/he dislike most and why?: Is this character judgmental of others and how so?: People s/he likes: Who is the most important person in his/her life right now and why?: His daughter, Caitlyn. Her immense vulnerability, their shared DNA, and all of the things she represents (newness, relevance, forgiveness, unconditional love) key right into Zion’s romantic sense of responsibility. Who was his/her biggest influence and why?: Person who most misunderstands or misjudges the character and how so?: Has s/he lost touch with anyone significant in their life? If so, why?: How many people has s/he dated? Describe each relationship: Has this character ever cheated or been cheated on?: Worst end of a relationship: Danielle Atwood takes the cake on this one, too. There’s no worse break-up than one you have to support with facts, coordinated by lawyers, while still living together and caring for a newborn. On whom does s/he rely most for practical advice?: On whom does s/he rely most for emotional support?: Who does s/he support (practically or emotionally)?: What types of individuals does s/he like to associate him/herself with? What types of individuals doesn’t s/he like to associate him/herself with? What do family/friends like most about this character?:

SEX/ROMANTIC LIFE

What do they consider to be a romantic date?: What did they do on their first date?: How does a normal date go for this character?: How would they like to propose or be proposed to?: Virgin?: No. Describe his/her sex life: Being an unmarried father with a bit of a martyr complex will really kill your sex life. One-night-stands don’t have very much appeal, long-term dating is almost impossible right now, and he’s happy to play the disciplined, doting dad. How often does this character have sex?: How long can s/he go without sex?: How does this character feel emotionally after sex?: Does this character have self-control around individuals of his/her sexual desire?: Evidently. Does sex play an important role in his/her relationships?: Yes! Yes. To Zion, sex is exciting, stress-relieving, natural, outright enjoyable fun he can have with something beautiful – and, the other, more intricate intimacies (giving, getting, sharing, being responsible for someone else’s pleasure) make it absolutely essential. Kinks/turn-ons: Anti-kinks/turn-offs: Sexual peculiarities: Sexual perks: Sexual flaws: Top or bottom?: Dominant or submissive?: What was his/her first sexual experience? Is it a positive or negative memory?: Have they ever impregnated someone, or been impregnated?: Once. They went through with the pregnancy, and he now has a daughter. Have they ever had intercourse or a sexual experience with the sex to which they are not attracted?: No.

MENTAL ATTITUDES/PERSONAL BELIEFS

Meyers-Briggs Personality Type: ESTP-A (The Entrepreneur). Describe his/her personality: Any psychological issues?: Enneagram: Hogwarts House: Intelligence level: Known languages: Fluent in English (native language), can read some Arabic (grandparents’ native language). Self-confidence: Optimist or pessimist?: Optimist. Hell, Zion’s almost an idealist – but only almost. Extrovert or introvert?: Extrovert. Emotional or logical?: This one’s a tough one. His emotions inform and cloud his logic, but he still tries to make decisions based on what makes sense. Patient or impatient?: Patient, but sometimes antsy. Compassionate or self-involved?: Compassionate. Describe his/her sense of trust: Describe his/her sense of humor: What does s/he like most about him/herself? What does s/he like least about him/herself?: S/he is most comfortable when: S/he is least comfortable when: Describe this character’s approach to life: What does s/he value most?: Whom does s/he really love best?: Whom or what would s/he be willing to die for?: Personal philosophy: If granted one wish, what would it be?: What is his/her greatest fear?: Other fears/insecurities/phobias: Character’s greatest strength: Character’s greatest flaw/weakness: Seven virtues: Seven sins: Biggest vulnerability (nonphysical): Biggest regret: Biggest accomplishment: What is/are the character’s biggest, darkest secrets?: Who else knows, if anyone?: Short term goals: Long term goals: What event or occurrence does s/he most dread or fear?: What does s/he work actively to gain, keep, or protect?: What is this character’s dream job?: Religion: Raised very, very loosely Christian. Does the character believe in a god or goddess?: No. What are the character’s spiritual beliefs?: None. Is religion or spirituality an important part of this character’s life?: No. Superstition: He’s not sure he entirely believes it, but as a kid he picked up the concept of “jinxed” success and he’s been half-seriously wary of it ever since. Chinese zodiac: Monkey Astrological Zodiac: Scorpio I Element:

LIKES AND DISLIKES

Color: Food: Drink: Book: Theme song: Music genre: Clothing: Place: Central Park. Lame, but true. Person: Movie: TV Show: Mad Men / Top Gear / Last Week Tonight. Historical figure: Subject in school: Animal: Least favorite animal: Where does this character like to hang out?: Where is this character’s dream place to live?: What sorts of books are likely to be found on their shelves?: Personal quote: Mode of transportation: Driving. Zion loves driving. Why else would he have a car in Manhattan? Season: Holiday: Flower: Possession:

[zkbarnes-blog]

sidekicks || ethan & zion

If he moved quickly enough, they could be there before 10:30.

So he moved quickly. Zion wasn’t a stranger to bars, or the New York nightlife -- he wasn’t a prude, alright, he’d had his share of dark room flirtations -- but exhaustion showed too easily on his face, these days. He had to start this before the sleep hit his eyes. Laptop bag discarded on the couch when he walked in. Fingers quick with the zipper on his slacks; trade them for chinos, un-knot his work-shoes, pull out the good cologne (just one dab). If he moved quickly enough, he could beat his brain to the front lobby. He could get there before his heels dug into the dirt.

Ethan was already in the lobby by the time he left the stairwell. He took a breath that lifted his shoulders and his eyebrows, smile like a shrug. "I don't know how I feel about you playing matchmaker," he said. His face said otherwise, of course. Everything about him tonight said maybe this is worth it, said screw it, I deserve to share my bed. Still. Zion opened the door for the other man -- a bit of a reach -- and then followed him out, where the air was thick like kitchen steam. "You know I do okay on my own, right? I just haven't really been in it, lately."

[zkbarnes-blog]

She was holding his hand when Zion came back. The dispatcher had been calm, steady-voiced, and it had helped him dull the anxious flutter in his own chest. He was alright. The man was alright, too -- and even if he wasn't, they'd only done what anyone else would do. Good (albeit misguided) Samaritans.

He frowned, adjusting his watch as she led him a few steps away from the stairs. Brigitte wore earnestness like red-carpet mascara: sharp and clear, it brought out her eyes and complimented her face. It made distress look even more distressing. "He'll be fine. Paramedics will take it from here," he said. Response rates weren't speedy in city traffic, but they'd get there soon enough. "Look," he added, with an exhale, "whatever's wrong with him, it's not our fault. Even if we--" Like they were criminals, Jesus. Zion went for a restart. "All we can do is sit with him." He took a spot next to the man -- close, but not too close, shoulder against the other railing -- and waited a beat before looking at him. "I'm Zion. This is Brigitte. We're going to wait with you, okay? Help's coming. Try to stay still."

Brigitte soaked up Zion’s words and found herself nodding along, willing herself to believe them. It may have been shock, of course, why hadn’t she thought of that? the words replayed in her head until a small reassuring smile tugged at her lips. It’s not like he’d fallen from a third story building, it had been a little tumble. Nothing was wrong. “You’re going to be fine. Is there anyone we can contact for you?” She questioned, kneeling down to face the man, hoping that a distraction would soothe them all. 

Listening to Zion inform the dispatch of their location, she absentmindedly took the elderly man’s hand for reassurances. He wasn’t alone, and she couldn’t help but be grateful that Zion was here to provide them both with comfort. “They’ll be here in no time.”  She finally stood, pulling Zion to the side. “He's feet are swollen. We didn’t do anything wrong, right?” She whispered, regarding him with worry in her azure gaze. “I tried pulling him up on my own and he fell back down. — Maybe he’s diabetic or… there’s some kind of medical reasoning to all of this.”

[zkbarnes-blog]

"I'm still holding out for reform. What we did with healthcare -- that, but for education." Okay, when he said it out loud, it was a little ridiculous. Zion blinked to roll his eyes. "Unlikely, I know. Schools are run like businesses now, and we don't want to throw that off-balance. But if we could subsidize just a little bit of it, or make just a little bit of it tax-deductible..." This was desperation, fifteen years ago; he was fine, now, and his daughter was going to be fine, but there was still a nineteen year old with index cards taped to his dorm-room mirror, scrubbing motor oil off his hands. Every time the conversation went here, he sighed in Zion's ear.

"Oh god, of course she is. She'd get in even if she didn't have the legacy behind her. She's so -- smart, already," he said (this was gushing) (the smile he couldn't keep tucked away), "it's unreal. Soon she'll be talking circles around me."

“It’s just such a ‘damned if you do, damned if you don’t’ situation. If you don’t go to college, you’re not in debt but have fun trying to find a job. And if you do go to college, you might get a job but hey, you’ll be in debt for the next 30 years.” Harlow sighed. “I know. Schools are getting ridiculous with all their entrance crap. Look on the bright side though: given the whole ‘legacy’ trend rampant among colleges, your daughter will probably get into Brown easier than the kids you’re interviewing.”

[zkbarnes-blog]

He couldn't feel his legs.

Zion reached for the railing, himself, so he wouldn't let the panic make him pace. "It's just shock," he said. Like a reassurance. He repeated it louder, more directed so Brigitte would nod along. "Shock. Like going numb before you freeze to death -- the numbness. Shock." He looked at the man (his face, Christ, don't look at his feet) and tried his best at a smile that only turned out weak. "You're going to be okay. We're going to get you help."

Would you believe he'd never called 911 in his life? This was a hell of a way to break that record, on the sidewalk in front of some apartment stoop, Brigitte's familiarity the only comfort as he tugged out his phone. "I'll just call an ambulance so we don't have to... move you anymore." The dispatcher asked for their address. He read the house number clear enough, but had to walk closer to the corner to get the street.

Brigitte couldn’t have been anymore thankful that the person who had stumbled upon her was Zion. She was at a loss, which seemed like a mutual feeling, by the look on his face. These situations were never her forte, though she wasn’t prone to panic easily, the chaotic atmosphere that accompanied the streets of New-York were slowly seeping beneath the hardened shell. Her eyes searched the man’s person, leaning down before him. “Does anything hurt, sir? Can you move?” She echoed Zion’s word in a shaken tone. It was only when he muttered that he couldn’t feel his legs that panic exploded within her belly. Grabbing her friend’s arm, she offered him a look that spoke volumes. No words needed to be uttered for him to understand that she was asking whether there was a possibility they’d paralyzed him.