Ronan Lynch (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
nightmarist) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thisavrou_log2017-03-01 12:05 am
nightmarist) wrote in thisavrou_log2017-03-01 12:05 am
ar mhullach an tí tá síodha geala.
Who: Residents of St. Monmouth & OPEN to visitors
When: Throughout March
Where: St. Monmouth in Kauto R2
What: Various suspicious happenings over at the dream farm.
Warnings: Look to the subject headers.
Notes: This is a mingle/catch-all log. Start your own threads! Tag around!
When: Throughout March
Where: St. Monmouth in Kauto R2
What: Various suspicious happenings over at the dream farm.
Warnings: Look to the subject headers.
Notes: This is a mingle/catch-all log. Start your own threads! Tag around!
[Every day, something new appears at St. Monmouth. Sometimes it's a book on a shelf or a calf in the field. Sometimes it's a door that somehow went unnoticed until now, leading to a room that wasn't there yesterday. This only ever reinforces the pervasive dreaminess of the place, disorienting as a half-recalled memory.
At the same time, St. Monmouth retains its pleasant lived-in atmosphere. The rooms were made to feel cozy, even with so many tall windows and open spaces. The temperature is always a drowsy sort of warm. Because the dreamer has to dream in so many locations, piles of pillows and blankets end up tossed in random corners throughout the factory-church. The fridge never runs out of pizza, the liquor bottles are never empty, and cupboard hinges sound like they're humming songs instead of creaking.
In the garden, some of the flowers look more like abstract art pieces than plants. Wrapped candy bars grow on many of the trees instead of fruit. The pond somehow contains freshwater and tropical fish living together in perfect harmony. When night falls, fireflies made from pure light wash over the property like a glowing tide coming in.
As far as anyone living there can tell, the farm itself produces nothing. Cows are milked and eggs are collected, but there's only enough for the household to consume. None of the cattle are ever slaughtered, yet Ronan always makes his mandatory delivery to the locals in exchange for the land. He gives them more than he's required, too, in steaks and cheeses and ice cream and fruit. Hopefully not enough to attract attention.]
andyyyyrrrrr
[ it's as if thinking about it summons the ugliness he's terrified of summon up more often, now. since the incident with ronan, that adam'd witnessed, that'd left him scared and quiet and shut down, andyr's had a constant track playing in his head of 'don't fuck up, don't fuck up' and 'keep your shit together' and underneath it 'you shouldn't fucking be here'.
just the way andyr'd rewritten himself in the houses - the more his mind circles around something, the more true it becomes. the longer he's afraid of snapping inside st. monmouth, the more he's convinced he will, the worse his paranoia gets, the more tense he is constantly, and the more he's looking elsewhere for a safe outlet, now that there's no SIM room and no monsters or wildlife to have to fight against. that's what has him packing up every few days, stuffing some food and water, bandages, and weapons, into the backpack he used to wear all around the Moira, braced for it going down on some random planet again, and trekking off towards the EN-line station. petra's left with either ellie or noah for caretaking, and andyr slips out without a word, likely to be gone for half the day or longer.
he'll head for R1, the city proper, maybe for Kavinsky's cage matches, something about it so so similar to the ones he'd used to be forced into, now without the drugs, but who knew, he never needed them, did he? or he'll go stalking the streets, but anyone he runs into there, he can't really let loose on. can't leave a body behind. some days, it's chioni he heads to, just the harshness of the planet and struggle to survive it alone giving enough of a fight to soothe what restlessness he has in him, before heading home again. he hasn't really stopped to consider that maybe it's all this that's making it worse, rather that simply his fear of it. likely because he'll be stuck, no idea what to do with himself.
though 'home' has started to be alva's couch, now and again. alva, who knows him. who's seen him at the absolute worst of this, blood drenched among bodies looking happy as a kid in an arcade, twisted and demented and so full of rage nothing in the fortress of hapsburg could hardly contain it. alva's always been safe, that way, in that andyr doesn't have to make any attempt to try at anything more.
at the present moment, he's simply leaving, gear packed up, petra distributed, leaving quietly out the front door to head for the EN-line. ]
B] fish trivia therapy near the pond;
Catfish have over 27,000 taste buds. Humans have around 7,000.
[ sitting at the edge of the pond, andyr's legs are dipped down into it, pants rolled up to his knees, as he idly kicks in the water, fish weaving in and out and around his feet, as if he's a familiar thing to them, just another one of the school. he's murmuring bits of marine trivia, as he watches them slip along in the water blow, eyes following one, before jumping to another, expression blank.
outwardly, he likely just looks bored. in reality, this is a ritual of his, something no one at st. monmouth is probably aware of, as of yet, as he hasn't done it in a while, and he doesn't ever talk about it. there's more of a reason for why andyr regurgitates random fish trivia than simply liking them, and why he always comments with 'it's just something I know a lot about'. that stupid book he'd been stuck with for the first year in hapsburg, that he'd memorized from cover to cover, is something that he knows solidly and without doubt. he can see the words in his head, knows the page number, remembers the picture next to it and the entry on either side. it's enough white noise in his mind to drown out anything else. ]
On average, flying fish can glide 160 feet, but have been known to glide as far as 660 feet, and they can reach heights up to 19 feet.
C] picture books;
[ on one of the easier days, when andyr wakes up feeling calm and balanced, with mind quiet and fears successfully on a back burner, he can be found sprawled on the floor on top of some of ronan's nap pillows, near one of the many, many bookshelves. in front of him are several different books spread out, with pictures or rolling hills and old cities, sparkling waters and cliffs. there's sections of information, detailing the history of the country, the culture, unique points of interest, that andyr's pouring over, and soaking in. while andyr was never much of an academic, when he'd actually been in school, so much time spent in a cell being bored made is an obligatory pastime. one he actually enjoys now, as he keeps mostly to himself, ignoring anyone who passes by as he silently reads.
just be careful not to step on him, as he is sort of buried, eventually with a blanket tugged up over his body, edge rested on top of his head, chin on his forearms folded on the floor. he isn't making much noise, outside of turning pages, so he'd be easy to miss. ]
wildcard;
[ idk idk hit me ]
wildcard fite me
Andyr is a strange guy, to say the least; Jesse doesn't know Andyr the way some others in Monmouth do, but he knows Andyr enough. He knows enough, through the small details Andyr has revealed to him about his past, the things he's told Jesse about what he's been put through, the horrific thing that Jesse witnessed back on the Moira. Jesse knows being around Andyr can be like toying with danger, but he himself has never once felt scared of Andyr. If anything, since that night Andyr dragged his pathetic, junkie ass home, dumped him in the shower, crept into his room several nights later where Jesse wound up spilling some of his darkest secrets - if anything, Jesse has found himself... Well. Let's just say that the affection he has for Andyr runs deep.
So, as a concerned friend, Jesse approaches Andyr's room after having made sure Ellie has had some food, and when he comes to the doorway, he's greeted with the sight of Andyr packing his things into a bag. Crossing his arms over his chest, Jesse studies him, headed tilted slightly, a worried yet quizzically reprimanding frown on his forehead. What the hell has gotten into him lately? ]
Leaving again?
(ง'̀-'́)ง
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B
He hesitates then, clearing his throat when he's close enough, it sounds like Andyr is saying something and maybe this is a bad time. Adam's got plenty of bad timing lately. ]
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B;
Not that it bothers Jamie much - he drops to his knees and begins threading a hook for the fishing rod he's brought, his big fingers surprisingly skillful at it, despite his right hand being a bit of a crippled mess. He's pretty obviously left-handed, anyway. ]
Canna say I've ever considered whether a fish can taste its food. I only ken which ones taste best when cooked over a fire.
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nsfw wildcard
So, naked on Ronan's bed, with Ronan close enough to press his head against his thigh as Andyr and he kiss. It's a little procrastination on both parts probably, he thinks Andyr and Ronan are probably just as nervous, just as worried about the step they're taking forward.
Adam can't help but break the kiss, looking between the two. ]
This is really okay?
[ It might be mostly directed at Ronan but Andyr's approval is just as important. ]
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COW HORSE
Today his explorations take him somewhere new and Matthew ends up in the stables, where he is currently working on brushing out the very long and flowing mane of Andyr's handsome cow horse. He doesn't know it's Andyr's horse, or else he might've thought to get permission first, but he promised Ronan he would help with the animals and this seemed like a thing that needed doing.
He talks as he works, chattering idly about nonsense--"Why did Ronan dream you with so much hair?"--and then laughing at himself, and gently stroking the horse's mane away from its face. He's not afraid of the animal, and certainly doesn't give it any reason to be afraid of him either. He stops when he thinks he hears someone approaching and pokes his curly head out of the stall, his usual friendly smile well in place. ]
Hello?
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Adam
[ It's not a new thing for Adam to come to the library and scour through the rows of books. He's searching for any books that would help him on what he's trying to figure out, how to get rid of Ronan's demon. There's, of course, more things he needs to figure out with his magic as well but selfishly enough the demon is his priority. So he would spend hours looking for the right book and missing Persephone.
He drops down onto the steps that lead to the higher shelves with a pile of books, slowly going through them. He already discarded the majority of them, they weren't what he needed after all and he was running out of choices. ]
Pool
[ There's no one else around the pool when Adam goes out there in swim shorts and a t-shirt. He'd been drinking a soda which he sets on the table and then plops down on the edge of the pool, dropping his feet into the water and kicking them for small splashes for his idle amusement. It's a nice day and he hadn't gone to work, had actually slept in.
Now he's thinking about going for a swim but he's also thinking that maybe Ronan should also make a hot tub out here. He's going to have to mention it the next time he sees him. ]
Wildcard
[Hit me with your best shot]
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Oh.
[Ronan's not dressed for swimming, but he's shirtless and barefoot, at least, with only a comfortably distressed pair of charcoal cargo pants hanging past his hips. He makes his way over to Adam and plops down at the edge of the pool beside him, dropping his dusty feet into the water and soaking the rolled cuffs of his pants.]
I didn't know you were home.
[Chainsaw trills in greeting and abandons Ronan's shoulder in favor of Adam's.]
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Library
But also...if Ronan had dreamt the library and he didn't know how to get rid of the demon, could an answer lay within those books? Maybe something from his subconscious was a key?
He's roaming around a bit until he comes up to the stairs that Adam is sitting on. Gansey approaches the bottom of the stairs, easygoing smile on his face.]
No work today?
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Wildcard! The garage Adam works at
He doesn't want Adam to shut him out because of this. He doesn't want to fight with Adam.
So after shooting off a quick text to Ronan (he's still surprised he can do this and receive an answer, honestly), he finds the garage that Adam works at.
Gansey strolls in, appearing casual as he ever does quite by accident--through years of hiding his emotional state from the outside. Though his face looks troubled.]
Parrish.
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wildcard
That seems to be the popular time frame for everyone's arrival. Like the universe trying to correct itself.
[It sounds a little bit ridiculous and farfetched as it comes out of Declan's mouth, but he's spent his entire life going to church, learning that there are reasons for everything. He was also taught that good prevails over evil, but reality has showed him otherwise. He only very rarely buys into what the gospel preaches every Sunday]
I just mean... [Declan waves his hand toward Ronan's room] He's collected himself quite a group of people here. That's all.
[And as for Kavinsky not being a problem, Declan doubts that to be true, but with Adam and Gansey here, he knows they'd try to keep that trash heap out of here]
Good. I've always appreciated you and Gansey looking out for Ronan.
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Archer Forrest
[ Archer knew she would eventually make her way to Monmouth, because there were horses and the like and she missed seeing animals that looked remotely familiar. Also because the idea of someone like her (in the vaguest sense of the word) would end up setting up a farm felt a bit ridiculous. She definitely had to meet this person.
By the time she arrives to the farm, Archer looks slightly disheveled, exactly how one would imagine a young lady that's been walking the world for a while now. Her clothes, already worn before she arrived, look even more used up and her backpack is a collection of patches and last minute fixes. She's totally planning to replace everything, of course, but for that she needs to stop wandering around. Maybe a stop at Monmouth will do the trick.
Her priorities get all tangled up the moment she actually arrives though. The sight of cattle makes her squeal in a girly way she didn't know she could and before anything else she's already hopped on the fence, half her body inside as she pets the cow closest to her, which all in all seems completely okay with it. A lover of petting zoos, it's been way too long since she has had the chance to touch an animal, even a dog. A cow's a pretty big deal, okay? ]
Up a tree
[ Sleeping in odd places is as much a part of Archer's life as scavenging for food. It's moved from an inconvenience to simply another part of her routine. So once she grows tired (but not tired enough to set up her tent) Archer climbs on a tree that looks resilient enough and closes her eyes.
She's not actually sleeping though. It's more like meditation, because she's fairly sure that falling asleep on a tree branch would end up with her face first into the ground. It's peaceful enough anyway and it helps to clear her mind. A side effect of her meditation however, is the sudden sprouting of several little flowers all around her, coming from the branch, the closest side of the trunk to her and even the ground underneath.
That doesn't look weird at all, nope. ]
Wildcard
[ You bet your ass that Archer's going to be poking all the things, so hit me up with whatever. ]
cows
Instead, he decides to see who she is and what exactly she's up to. ]
Hey. Who are you?
[ He doesn't yet recognize her from the auto shop -- he hadn't been paying that much attention. ]
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"Alexander"
Jamie has no problem ignoring the strangeness of this place, so long as he can do his job without someone trying to kill him or otherwise cause trouble for him. It doesn't even matter that the farm itself seems to operate on magic rather than actual labor - Jamie focuses on the horses, training them and caring for them. If the stable was cleaned by magic before, now Jamie does it. He mucks the stalls and maintains the tack, brushes the animals down, hauls bales of hay around, all the normal stuff that a stablehand should do.
Needless to say, he does the work because he likes it and because it occupies his mind. It's pleasant, and at the end of the day he's tired and he sleeps well. He doesn't have much else to worry about, which is all to the good.
Alone in the stable, he often pulls off his shirt to work, trickles of sweat running down and the sun browning his skin to make the mass of scars over his back stand out even more starkly than they might otherwise. The horses don't care what he looks like, just so long as he feeds them.
B: Library;
Of course, work doesn't fill up every waking hour, and once he's persuaded to actually come into the house, he quickly finds himself surrounded by books, and looking for familiar titles. He seeks a few in Latin, Greek, and even French, and some that perhaps some residents would be familiar with - Robinson Crusoe, when he discovers a copy, brings a smile to his face that's bigger and brighter than anything witnessed so far since his arrival.
C: Parritch;
Jamie quickly discovers that living and working with a bunch of teenage boys means they... do not have the best diets. Something called a pizza seems to make up the bulk of what they eat, and Jamie can't make heads or tails of it. Before long, he drops into the kitchen in the main house of a morning, and soon the smell of warm, mushy oats is filling the room.
That's right, he's got a batch of parritch on the stove. Eat it, it's good for you.
D: Wildcard;
Jamie's got a cabin of his own, after a few days, thanks to Ronan's mysterious magical powers that he will not ever question, ever. He plants a few things there, and he can also often be found exercising the horses - Jamie loves to ride, so anyone can run into him on the grounds of St Monmouth, just about anywhere.
C
"What exactly is that?" It looks like it's going to be harder to eat quickly than pizza.
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work;
And Jamie, well. As much shit as Jesse gives the guy sometimes, Jesse has grown to really quite like the guy. He, too, is a strangely calming presence; nothing seems to rattle him, and he more often than not will shake off most things with a little joke or an amused remark. ]
Yo. Groundskeeper Willy. [ Jesse calls this out as his feet crunch over lose stones and dirt, dressed in sloppy clothes while clutching a few carrot sticks in his hand. Hearing noise coming from the stable itself, Jesse moves across to the open door, where he spots Jamie... and he stops dead in his tracks with his eyes widening, his mouth falling agape a little in disturbed horror at the grisly sight of Jamie's entirely fucked up back. ]
Jesus...
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Richard Gansey
[It was impossible to see everything all in one day. So Gansey decides he's going to start with the more outer reaches of the grounds, walking through sloping hillsides, petting cows along the way (Somehow so different from the ones permanently asleep at the Barns), and bending to look at the oddly shaped and colored plants he discovers along the way.
All the while, he's lost in his thoughts. The demon trapped in Ronan's head. He's used up his one bargaining chip already--his life. There had to be a way to get rid of it without anyone else dying. There had to be a way. He couldn't accept Ronan being Unmade.
The sun begins to set and he pauses at the edge of a forest and simply watches as the forest seems to come alive in the dark, glow from the fireflies mixing with the breeze.
He's lost in his thoughts, looking out into dusk.]
Main sitting area
[It's quite late and it's been a long day of exploring the grounds of St. Monmouth and Gansey is wiped out. It's incredible how much Ronan has dreamt into reality. In fact, he's amazed that Ronan didn't spend all of his time asleep, to create this much. He's in his favorite pajama pants that he found in his chest of drawers. It's amazing how accurate everything is that Ronan has dreamt for him. Even his wire framed glasses that he's currently wearing are the correct prescription.
He's seated in one of the extra comfy armchairs, book in one hand, cheek resting in the other on one of the arms. The chair is facing a window and occasionally, he'll look up to glance out of it to watch the fireflies shift in the distance.]
Wildcard
Feel free to tag with anything!
Sitting area
Though, that manages to have it's own stresses and problems as well. ]
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wildcard : cuddling time!
Tonight, though, she isn't as lucky, She's been tossing and turning for what feels like hours on end; every position feels more uncomfortable than the previous, the room becomes too hot one second and then too cold the next as she pulls the blankets on and off the bed, even the quietest of noises outside feel like they're being blasted through her window in stereo.
So, she gives up.
Or rather, Blue gives up sleeping in her own room for the night. In nothing more than an oversized shirt, boxer shorts and socks, she tiptoes her way to Gansey's bedroom, stopping at the door and peering in through the small sliver of an opening that's been left there -- deliberately or not, she's unsure.
She knocks once. Twice. A third time. A gesture that's more for the purpose of announcing her arrival than actually asking permission to come in, and not even a moment after the sound softly echoes in the room does Blue push open the door and shuffle quietly inside. ]
You awake?
[ She'd likely be more shocked if he wasn't awake, to be honest. ]
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wildcard (again?!) : surprise attack in Gansey's room
And, okay. Maybe all that combines together and looks a lot like angry in the form of Blue all but stomping her way down the hall and into Gansey's room (after stomping through various other places in search of him. She was truly a force to be reckoned with.). She hadn't been wanting to cause a scene, and in hindsight, she's surprised that all of her stomping around the halls of St. Monmouth didn't cause any curious onlookers to appear.
Not that they would have seen very much, Blue closes Gansey's door behind her, sealing them away in total privacy before letting loose. ]
Richard Gansey. [ First name, Last name. Blue Sargent means business. Her arms fold tightly across her chest and as she stares down the boy. ] You didn't tell him?!
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sitting area
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monmouth grounds!!!
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The grounds!
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Blue Sargent
[ It's some time long before the light of day begins to peek over the horizon when Blue Sargent finds herself standing in front of an open fridge, a cup of yogurt in one hand while the other does the work of holding the refrigerator door open, the handle of a spoon sticking out from the corner of her mouth. For the past few weeks, her breakfast has consisted of a seemingly never ending supply of yogurt or whatever cereal she could reach without having to scale the counter tops.
This morning, however, she's feeling adventurous (read: insane.) and has taken on the task of cooking breakfast. And not just any breakfast, but the grandest breakfast that she can imagine.
Blue is apparently quite confident in her cooking abilities, despite having rarely ever used them. How hard could it possibly be, though? Mix a few things together, throw them into a pan and viola!. Breakfast.
What you'll actually find, however, is one small, frantic girl making a mess of the kitchen while doing any of the following; trying to fan away clouds of black smoke coming from a frying pan, grumbling while picking eggshells out of her omelette mix, generally cursing to herself about how much easier this all looks when someone else is doing it.
(Or maybe you find her completely given up, sitting on the kitchen floor with a bowl of cereal.) ]
[ Blue usually spends her evenings inside. Not for any specific reason, she's just yet to find the desire to venture out of St. Monmouth after the sun goes down -- especially on days when she's already spent most of her waking hours just roaming around the grassy expanses. But she's feeling restless this evening, catching a little bit of cabin fever after having spent her entire day curled up in her bed, music playing softly from a record player that somehow played more than just records.
(Dream things, right? No rhyme or reason as far as the eye can see.)
So, she finds herself outside, stars twinkling into existence over her head and an entirely new world of creatures waking up -- nocturnal animals slowly making their way back from where ever it was they remained hidden during the day and insects buzzing, creating a soundtrack unlike any that Blue had ever heard during the daylight hours.
St. Monmouth became infinitely more magical at night, just like she thought most things did.
And that thought is only confirmed when she comes across a collection of plants that seem to have tiny glowing orbs where the buds of its flowers should be. She's convinced that for everyone one new thing that she discovers, there's a hundred more lying in wait (and with that thought in mind, she also wonders just how much of Ronan's time is spent dreaming. With how many things exist, she's surprised she's ever seen him awake.).
Crouching down until she's eye level with the plants, she can be found closely investigating the glowing lights, maybe even reaching out to delicately touch them -- because the last thing she'd want is to somehow end up ruining this thing she finds so fascinating. ]
[ whatever you want, where ever you want, let's do the thing. ]
Kitchen
But even down the hallway he can smell the acrid smell of char. Who had burned something in the kitchen this early already?
The pile of discarded dishes and mixing bowls and pans is visible before Blue herself is. Gansey grins to himself before entering, rubbing the top of her head on his way to the fridge and rummaging around for milk.]
Trying your hand at being domestic?
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outside
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kitchen
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kitchen
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Ronan Lynch
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All in all, he likes something a bit more solid but does that surprise anyone? Probably not.
Instead of getting onto the swing bed, he climbs up the nearby tree onto one of the stronger branches and sits with a perfect view of the beautiful boy that is Ronan Lynch.
He can tell when he's not sleeping anymore by the appearance of the items around him. He smiles, waiting for movement to return. He's probably visible easily as well. ]
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wildcard!
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gyyyyyyyyymmmmmmm
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Wildcard
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greenhouse
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swing bed
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Greenhouse please!
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Matthew!!
ii. PLAY;
iii. SLEEP;
iv. WILDCARD; anything you want!
Closed to Kavinsky
[ It takes a while to use up one's credit with Matthew, at least; that's canon, too. Even now, no matter what other weird stuff this skinny guy says, Matthew is still totally content to follow him like a baby chick until they reach their destination.
He tries, he really does, to keep up with the still-too-new names and explanations (Kauto: people; Chioni: bad, got it), hardly even blinking as he continues to stare out the window, following Kavinsky's pointing. ]
R2? [ he pipes up at the end. ] That's funny. [ On the Matthew path of thought, at least, since we know he makes pop references and they are in space and everything. But even he realizes that they are not actually going to meet a cute droid. ]
And that's where Ronan is? For sure?
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iii wakey wakey EGGS AND BACON (except not quite)
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ii. did somebody say playtime?!
YASSS
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Declan Lynch
[St. Monmouth is so much bigger than Declan could have anticipated. It's a lot to take in, a hell of a lot to explore and he knows that more and more is getting added to it every day- he has a few things to say about that, but he mostly keeps those thoughts to himself. For now.
He doesn't think even Niall ever dreamt up this much... and it' worrisome.
All if it is breathtaking though, and Declan forces himself to take it all in little by little- the only way to really go about this place. He's not used to slowing down, not even a little bit, so this is quite a change and to be perfectly honest, he's not quite sure he likes it yet. Matthew seems to be settling in just fine though, so that takes a weight off.
And Ronan? Well, the more he walks around each area, the more he feels like he's in Ronan's head. It's the brilliant blue flowers that he ends up lingering at, kneeling down to look at them. He remembers the ones at the Barns. He always took them for granted but he realizes he's never seen a color that blue out in the rest of the world. They remind him of his mother]
Declan's new digs
[There's a new addition to St. Monmouth that has recently popped up. Declan, because he just can't help himself, is standing outside, admiring it from top to bottom. The inside is fancier than the outside and he's definitely thinking about how impressed Ashley would be. Or... well, he's probably not going to see his girlfriend from home for a long time- if ever, so he supposes he can impress someone else in the meantime. No problem]
(come bug him!)
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[anything you'd like! start a thread!}
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----
They nearly died?
[ Nearly. Which implies they didn't, right? But Ronan's still dying here...
Blue looks visibly confused for quite a few moments -- she's yet to figure out how this entire time thing works (not that she's actively tried to understand it, either.), but as far as she can tell everyone seems to be from an entirely different one that her own. And the more she learns about it, the less it all seems to fit together with her own memories, leaving gaping holes in places where the connections just don't meet up.
Ronan dying. Matthew dying. Inwardly, she wonders if all of it had been happening the entire time and she'd just been too distracted by everything else in those whirlwind final days before her arrival to take notice. Distracted by Gansey, distracted by Henry Cheng, distracted by some stupid party that she'd been forced to go to -- not that she didn't have a great time, but that was neither here nor there at the moment. -- distracted by what had been happening to Noah.
Then again, this is Ronan they're talking about. Would he have really come out and told her before it became something that was glaringly obvious? ]
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new digs!
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New digs!!
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After the confrontation with Jesse
He didn't do anything about that problem back then, he was busy trying to keep assassins away from his brother, but this problem was just as big and he sure as hell is going to make sure nothing like that happens now.
This is the only thing in his head at the moment, until he gets near Ronan's room and then he stops, looking down at his red knuckles, feeling his heart beating in his ears. He turns quickly and leaves, straight out of St. Monmouth and walks. He just keeps walking until he reaches the part of the property that looks like their mother's garden and he stops again, pacing back and forth a few times before he sits down in the grass.
He did the right thing. Well, he did and he didn't, but he doesn't think he's ever going to be able to figure out how to balance those two things. Maybe he did for a second in the car when he finally told Ronan everything he had been doing to protect them, for a day at the Barns on Ronan's birthday, for a week while being here spending time with his brothers. He did the best he could. He can't imagine anyone else in his place would have done things differently.
When he feels calm enough to be a civil person again, he pushes himself up off the ground, dusts himself off and heads back into Monmouth. He's back in front of Ronan's room, knocking sharply on the door. He straightens himself out, chin up and ready to deal with whatever he's going to get on the other side of this door]
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Who the fuck do you think you are?
[He's ready to throw another punch, but it remains a mere threat for now.]
You think you're still running my life, huh?
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