crowded house (nick seymour, neil finn & paul hester) in auckland, 1986.
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wihltedā:
the Ā silence Ā is Ā deafening.Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā serena Ā stretches Ā her Ā hands Ā across Ā her Ā knees Ā ,Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā taking Ā a Ā deep Ā breath.Ā Ā Ā Ā itād Ā been Ā a Ā long Ā time Ā since Ā she Ā just Ā sat Ā quietly Ā with Ā james.Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā back Ā then Ā ,Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā it Ā had Ā been Ā nice.Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā comforting.Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā she Ā would Ā lay Ā her Ā head Ā on Ā his Ā shoulder Ā ,Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā palm Ā on Ā his Ā stomach.Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā almost Ā like Ā they Ā truly Ā cared Ā for Ā one Ā another.
maybe Ā they Ā had.Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā maybe Ā she Ā had Ā ,Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā and Ā maybe Ā she Ā did Ā want Ā him Ā to Ā wipe Ā her Ā tears Ā ,Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā in Ā spite Ā of Ā herself.
āĀ Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā i Ā always Ā thought Ā youād Ā find Ā out Ā sooner.Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā every Ā step Ā of Ā the Ā way Ā ,Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā i Ā thought Ā you Ā were Ā going Ā to Ā just Ā . Ā . Ā .Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā swoop Ā in Ā ,Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā and Ā tell Ā me Ā what Ā to Ā do.Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā help Ā me Ā in Ā some Ā way.Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā even Ā when Ā i Ā was Ā dying Ā ,Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā and Ā i Ā remember Ā them Ā taking Ā jayjay Ā out Ā of Ā my Ā arms Ā ,Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā part Ā of Ā me Ā thought Ā you Ā were Ā still Ā just Ā about Ā to Ā walk Ā in.Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āĀ Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā itās Ā better Ā he Ā didnāt Ā ,Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā though.Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā serenaās Ā sure Ā she Ā only Ā survived Ā because Ā she Ā couldnāt Ā leave Ā jayjay Ā alone.
āĀ Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā and Ā my Ā life Ā is Ā here,Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āĀ Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā serena Ā murmurs.Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā jayjayās Ā too Ā ,Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā though Ā she Ā doesnāt Ā say Ā so.Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā moving Ā to Ā london Ā wasnāt Ā an Ā option.Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā there, Ā sheād Ā have Ā no Ā one Ā but Ā james,Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā and Ā the Ā thought Ā alone Ā tempts Ā loneliness.Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āĀ Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā but Ā we Ā could Ā . Ā . Ā .Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā come Ā visit.Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā ā
Seeing his obvious distress reflected in Serenaās expression, it seems to hit James all at once: what their affair had meant to her. For him, it had been a bit of fun, a way to feel young again, almost. But sheād almost seemed to idolize him, like a knight in shining armor, looking up to her suave professor who always seemed to have the answers. How far from the truth that is.Ā āIām sorry.ā Thatās all he can offer, a lame platitude in front of all the pain that Serena has gone through.Ā āI justā I didnāt know.ā
The offer to visit comes as an olive branch of sorts, though, and James canāt help the smile that brightens his face all of a sudden. Itās something, although not a permanent solution, and itāll help to assuage his feelings of guilt for a bit.Ā āReally?ā Londonās a big place. His colleagues wonāt have to know.Ā āI reckon the kid would like London.ā
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"Yeah, but are you sure you want me?" He gestures to the glass of whiskey in his hand to emphasize his point. Only a few short years ago, James would've jumped at the opportunity, but now he's too jaded and too dependent on his liquid courage to think of anything but his next drink. "I was fuckin' useless to you. I mean, the fact that you're here is a miracle to begin with." He wonders if they're asking for too many miracles. But when all of this goes down, he's going to be under suspicion by default; it's not going to be pretty for him, but then again, has it ever been? The last decade has been a waking nightmare.
"I'm in if you want me. But you have to be sure."
the reality of the world has always been a slap to the face at best. it isn't hard to see or understand the sentiments it leaves behind, much less now when the same goes for the extent. ā i think it's our best chance. ā she speaks with no joy, no life. your best chance, she means; cecelia's best chance, too. it feels disgusting: gambling with their lives ā that's essentially what this is, right? but it's her job now. that is where they are. this is it. and it's bigger than just them, anyway. there is too little time for her usual indecision.
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inrovinaā:
James really does not look good. If he actually believed anyone would be able to help, Xeno would be unlocking the door and shouting down the corridor by now. But theyāre on their own, because he knows no real help would come. There would only be dozens of questions and intrusive eyes. Part of him already wants to protect James from that. He stays steady instead, supporting the other and holding the water bottle up.Ā
āHey, hey, I know, everything feels really fucked up right now, yeah? But youāre not on your own. Youāre in your dressing room backstage, and Iām here, and youāre gonna be okay. They want you out front for a show, but fuck āem, okay? You just keep breathing. We can just stay here.ā
āA show?ā James canāt help the snort of incredulity that leaves him when he hears that. He thinks the surroundings are familiar: God only knows heās spent enough time in concert venues to recognize one, no matter how far gone he is. It occurs to him that he doesnāt know when he last ate, and he feels weak, really weak. It takes all of his energy to focus on Xeno.Ā āAlways something.ā He manages to mumble. This guy looks really familiar. Has he spoken to him before?
āYour name?ā Never mind the fact that theyād been through this a grand total of five minutes ago.Ā āIā I think Iām gonnae pass out.ā
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redemptioninterludeā:
THERE IS NO GOD. What a bold statement to make, though she supposes if Ali were here, heād have a hell of a lot to say about aging rock stars and their attempts to relive glory days. though she supposes, James is still living through that without so much need to go chasing, thatās the irony in it, that even the rich and famous have good days and bad days, that thereĀ ās something still missing even with the world, seemingly at their fingertips. Like James and his unclaimed son. His unspoken lover. The husband that still doesnāt come home to him, even with her here, the teenaged runaway, the both of them sick and consumed with their own addiction.
And he faces it head on with his own dissatisfaction. Heās not really happy, not really anything much, lately. So much so that even Rueās watching him peel apart at the edges, her head lifting and shaking, ever so slightly, the high spinning through her insides, leaving her both breathless, and winded, at the same time.Ā āIāM A FUCK UPĀ because I canāt get over the fact that nothing feels like when my dad was here. And nobody likeā¦. like even with people who say they get it, theyāve been through it, theyāre saying it just takes time, but I keep waiting and waiting and it doesnāt get better. So thenā¦ whatās the right thing?I donāt know. I keep fucking up and making a mess and I just feel like so much shit, itās like, is it even worth climbing out of this, or am I just thisā¦ this likeā¦ perpetual piece of garbage with no hope, no redemption?ā
āYouāre so young, Rue.ā Thereās almost a tinge of envy as James says that. Yeah, alright, he was at the end of the rope when he was the same age as her, but still, he had time on his side then. He still wasnāt burdened with a failing marriage, a whole career, an image, this addictionā you name it. If thereās a book of regrets, you can be sure James Innes wrote it.Ā āYou still have time.ā Itās not like heās exactly out of time, either, and maybe thereās some fifty-year-old junkie living in a train station that would say the same thing to James. And he has money, doesnāt he? Heaps of it. Itās a blessing and a curse; something that keeps him off the streets, but enables his addiction, over, and overĀ and over again.
āMaybeāā The thought comes into his mind for a second, and he banishes it instantly, because itās too painful. Heās silent for a few minutes, staring into space, trying to figure out if he should release it into the world, if he should acknowledge the elephant in the room. He canāt keep thinking of himself all the time. He has to think about Rue, and her future, and her prospects, doesnāt he?
āMaybe weāre just not good for each other.ā
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wihltedā:
āĀ Ā Ā iĀ didnātĀ knowĀ that ,Ā Ā Ā āĀ Ā Ā Ā Ā serenaĀ says ,Ā Ā Ā toneĀ softĀ andĀ ā¦Ā Ā Ā sad.Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā sheāsĀ pensiveĀ forĀ aĀ fewĀ moments ,Ā Ā Ā twistingĀ aĀ ringĀ aroundĀ herĀ finger ,Ā Ā Ā thenĀ speaksĀ onceĀ more.Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āĀ howĀ wasĀ iĀ meantĀ to ?Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā youĀ openedĀ upĀ toĀ meĀ sometimes ,Ā Ā Ā butĀ neverĀ enoughĀ forĀ meĀ toĀ thinkĀ thatĀ iĀ reallyĀ meantĀ somethingĀ toĀ you ,Ā Ā Ā letĀ aloneĀ aĀ bastardĀ childĀ thatĀ couldĀ ruinĀ yourĀ life.Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā iĀ didnātĀ thinkĀ youĀ wouldĀ careĀ ifĀ iĀ left.Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āĀ Ā Ā Ā Ā theĀ wholeĀ thingĀ isĀ frighteninglyĀ honest ,Ā Ā Ā moreĀ thanĀ serenaĀ feltĀ comfortableĀ withĀ ,Ā Ā Ā asĀ farĀ asĀ anyoneĀ whoĀ isnātĀ herĀ siblingsĀ isĀ concernedĀ Ā Ā āāĀ Ā Ā jamesĀ beingĀ inĀ herĀ lifeĀ againĀ isĀ overwhelming ,Ā Ā Ā aĀ mixtureĀ ofĀ griefĀ forĀ herĀ previousĀ lifeĀ andĀ relationshipĀ withĀ him ,Ā Ā Ā aĀ yearningĀ forĀ somethingĀ againĀ ā¦Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā ifĀ theirĀ sonĀ couldĀ haveĀ bothĀ ofĀ hisĀ parentsĀ ā¦Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā whenĀ serenaĀ realizesĀ tearsĀ areĀ rollingĀ downĀ herĀ cheeks ,Ā Ā Ā sheĀ pullsĀ theĀ sleevesĀ ofĀ herĀ shirtĀ upĀ overĀ herĀ palmsĀ andĀ wipesĀ themĀ away.Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āĀ Ā Ā iĀ wonātĀ keepĀ himĀ fromĀ you ,Ā Ā Ā ifĀ youĀ wantĀ tĀ -Ā toĀ tryĀ coparenting ,Ā Ā Ā orĀ somethingĀ ā¦Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā iĀ justĀ wantĀ itĀ toĀ beĀ consistent.Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā kidsĀ ā¦Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā needĀ theirĀ fathers.Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā needĀ theirĀ parents.Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā iĀ didnātĀ getĀ toĀ haveĀ mineĀ forĀ veryĀ long ,Ā Ā Ā iĀ wantĀ jayjayĀ toĀ haveĀ them.Ā Ā Ā ā
Serenaās talking sense. Way too much sense for Jamesā comfort. He knows sheās right, and he doesnāt have an argument to fire back like he always does, and that leaves him strangely silent for once. Back in London, he was always the one with all the smart answers, but there are no smart answers and glib replies for the situation he finds himself in now. He wants to reach out and wipe her tears away, as he wouldāve done once upon a time, but he stops himself, that invisible touch barrier now suddenly back up after all the intimacy theyād shared.
Itās a hell of a conundrum.Ā āItās not that I donāt want to be a father, butā what am I meant to do now? Iāve got everythinā in London. My job, still. Myā my everything. How am I goinā to explain this?ā He knows she doesnāt have the answers, but hell, he sure fucking doesnāt.Ā āWhat am I gonnae do?ā
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vihilumā:
āWhatās your nephewās name?ā He could tell James was going to be good company. The car was cozy, and he didnāt feel cramped in the car. He felt himself relax a little, tension in his shoulder slowly ebbing away.
āDenverās nice,ā he hadnāt stayed long. On a previous trek crossing through the states, he had driven through the city, stopping by for gas and a quick lunch. āIf you like the snow,ā his lips pursed, and a true grin evolved, āI didnāt grow up around too much snow. So I really like to see it.ā
He thought, he might just have to spend a night in Denver - just on the off chance it snowed. āSheās just over the state line. Green River. Wyoming.ā Stay and buy himself enough time to work up the courage to call her and let her know he was coming.
āIād drive myself too.ā Tommy understood the value of space, to focus, and clear oneās head, āTell me about your show?ā
āNick.ā He beamed, with too much pride to be merely an uncle. Tommy didnāt know the complicated family history of Jamesā infidelity and backstabbing, but that wasnāt exactly the kind of conversation you got into on your first meeting, was it?Ā āHeās a great kid. Canāt wait till heās old enough to join us on tour, but we might have to clean up our act for him a bit.ā Nick is really Jamesā son, but only two people know that secret; nephew sounds plausible enough to be the truth.
āIt snowed a lot where I grew up. Small village in Scotland. I miss that in London, sometimes.ā He was focused on the road again, one hand firmly on the gearbox, the other on the wheel, radiating the kind of confidence he never wouldāve dreamed possible in his youth in Scotland.Ā āWhere did you grow up?ā It was easy to have a conversation with Tommy: no pleas for autographs, pictures, invasive questions about his personal life. It was something James had sorely missed.
āAh, the showās doinā my head in. Same shite every fuckinā night, canāt stand my fuckinā bandmates, the record companyās threatening to sue meāā He paused, and then gave Tommy a big, sarcastic grin.Ā āItās great, what more can a man ask for?ā
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not me not writing james for like... months and then coming back and doing all my 6 month old drafts
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"Yeah, I know what you mean." The fact that James is drunk out of his mind is probably the reason why he's giggling like a giddy schoolgirl, a cigarette of his own clutched between his fingertips. This is only the beginning of the night; he's usually never alone in his debauchery, the kind of stuff that you'd never imagine a man of the cloth to be capable of, but to find another priest who's just as fucked up as he is? Well, that's almost too good to be true.
"It's like becomin' a different person, isn't it?" James takes a puff of his cigarette, leaning back against the brick wall to steady himself.
he chuckles, as if the sound had been trapped within his lungs. breathy, with his long nose pointed towards the pebble he kicks with a leather shoe. cigarette is half-way poised between his lips, in the alleyway behind the bar. "it just feels weird to -- to not be wearing it." he keeps laughing, taking a pull of the dart. & soon enough, smoke plumes from betwixt his lips in another onslaught of goofy little giggles. "i don't know." he looks up, expression screwing up sillily. his long, veiny fingers rubbing at his concave chest. "do you feel it too?"
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GIVES JAMES A KISS
BACK BY UNPOPULAR DEMAND!!
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"Well, I meanā yeah." He could've explained everything, but it was way too much effort, in his opinion. "It's a long story. Do you trust me, still?"
" are you kidding ? " rebecca was astounded , looking at him like he was an apparition . " you didn't even call and all you have to say for youreslf is i'm sorry ? "
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@mehrcedita
"I know, it's just thatā I can't begin to face up to the truth." That's always been the way with James, hasn't it? With a whiskey glass in his hand, any hour of the day or night, unable (or unwilling) to face up to the reality of the world. "Are you really sure about this, Mercy?"
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constablegooā:
Odo bobs his head gently, still staring,Ā intent, at James, with his fingers interlocked. Then his gaze falls.
He thinks about the Occupation. He thinks about his role at the time. He thinks about Kira, and Cardassia, and Bajor, and the unimaginable loss, betrayal, and devastation left in the wake of 50 years of brutal domination of one planet over another. Hardly anyone he had ever met before the Federation arrived had known anything else.
āYes. Sometimes it is better,ā he easily admits. Sometimes people deserved a happy ending. Sometimes it was safer that way. He had spent the better part of his life struggling to find that very balance.
āThis faceā¦ā Odo gestures to himself, hesitating,Ā āitās not real. It is my approximation of what you are. Human. Solid. Most people I have metā¦ find reasons to fear who I am, what I am, rather than understand. But it exhausts me toā perform. I think you know what I mean.ā
Theyāre having a deep, heartfelt conversation here, and James is just in the process of nodding along solemnly when Odo brings up the thing about his face. He knows itād be a dick move to laugh now. He knows it, but James has never been known for his filter or his inhibitions, so the chuckle leaves him before he even knows it.Ā āSorry, mate.ā He puts a hand over his mouth, trying to stifle the further laughter.Ā āIām sorry.ā Give him some credit; at least the man is trying.
āI justā itās justā youāve got everything here that you can think of, so why the face? Iām no model myself, butāā James shakes his head, and swallows his laughter.Ā āAm nae laughinā at you, itās justāā Heās now fully embraced the absurdity of this situation, the fact that heās sat here talking to a fucking alien, of all the things.
āIām an arsehole, Iām sorry.ā
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Road head is illegal since driving a car technically while having genitals exposed falls under public indecency/exposure laws
well its not exposed innit. its in someone's mouth
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u canāt stop me
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@nightskied
"I'm sorry, by the way. Not that it means anythin' all these years later, butā I'm sorry, anyway."
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