Misplaced Lens Cap
Andulka
#extradirty
d e v o n
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
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EXPECTATIONS
shark vs the universe
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
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❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Cosmic Funnies
oozey mess
YOU ARE THE REASON
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
NASA
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@adamtheemancini
What do they remember most about their first crush?
Adam's first crush was a girl in class who had bright red hair and he was fascinated by the color. He can still remember that even decades after the fact. It was almost as red as Ariel in The Little Mermaid.
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If they had to pick a single word to describe this year so far, what would it be? Do they have something special that picks them up when they feel down? What is it? Do they consider telling white lies to be okay? What have they been thinking about lately that has kept them up at night?
Adam's word for this year would be "busy." He's been busy with his bar, his family, and his small group of friends! When he feels really down, quite honestly he just makes fun of his younger brother Danny and their ribbing back and forth usually lifts him from his funk. Adam usually tells the truth even if it's a little unpleasant, but he tries to make it at least funny. Lately he's been up late worrying about increasing overhead and a little bit about Maggie since she confided in him.
Do they have a bucket list?
Adam doesn't have a formal bucket list but there are certainly a few things that he'd like to do before he dies:
See Bruce in concert
Pet an elephant
See the northern lights in Iceland and stay in one of those ice hotels.
Random Character Development Questions
If they had to pick a single word to describe this year so far, what would it be? Do they have something special that picks them up when they feel down? What is it? What’s the biggest wager they’ve ever made? What is the last thing that they totally overreacted to? What’s their opinion on naps? What do they find they spend a lot of time wondering about? What smell always brings back some type of memory? Do they have a bucket list? What are they currently juggling in their life? How difficult is it for them to try new things? What’s something that they believe that most other people don’t? Where was their secret hiding place as a child? What do they remember most about their first crush? Do they consider telling white lies to be okay? Is there anything that makes them far angrier than it should? What have they been thinking about lately that has kept them up at night? What is something that will instantly annoy them? What’s their plan for surviving a zombie invasion? What do they consider the best decision they’ve made thus far in their life? What’s most important to them about their work environment? What’s something that they never seem to get tired of doing? What’s their “famous person” story?
"I mean who doesn't love a good trivia night? I know back in New York those were a hit at a lot of the bars as long as you had some good prizes to go along with it." One thing that Ivy was really good at was trivia of any kind. From the moment that she was younger, she loved to learn about any and everything so she had a vast knowledge of a lot of subjects. "Definitely not a waste of time. And I'm around if you need any help. I actually like planning things out and I've been told before that I'm very good at picking out gifts. Do we have a budget that you need to stick to?"
In an age of social media, the bar had been slow to market itself and master the mediums of instagram or facebook. They had been around for so long that it was primarily word of mouth and the regular crowd that kept their doors open, but it never hurt to try to expand to newer customers. "You really want to help out with an event like this?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "We could definitely come up with some sort of contract, how much would you charge for this normally?" Adam rested his hands on the bar counter and considered what kind of prizes he'd want to give out. "I was thinking small gifts or a certificate to the bar that people could use," he said. "We want to make money off the thing, so maybe $500?"
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"I don't speak for the teens or the newly legal, but I think there's a nostalgic factor in a live trivia night that would definitely appeal. Re-living the nineties and all that jazz." Sure, he was barely thirty himself; but that set him firmly in millennial culture, for better or worse. Growing up and watching Jeopardy, he would definitely attend a pub trivia night at any age, and he thought that might just be the case for a larger subset of the population. "You really don't keep up with the times, hey, old man?" Miles chuckled, shooting a pointed eyebrow raise towards Adam. "How many twenty somethings even know who Bruce Springsteen is? The 'Glory Days' are long gone." He teased, pushing his empty glass forward, signalling for a refill. "But throw in a TikTok category and something about Harry Styles? Then you'd be right in the pocket. Variety is the spice of life, after all. A category for E Street and classic rock would be great, too."
He put a hand over his heart as if wounded. "Ooh, that cuts deep," he replied, wincing for comedic effect. In all honesty, Adam didn't care much about whether he was considered old or young or in between. The only time he paid much attention to his age was when he considered the ever-increasing distance between his age and the age that Kate would always be. As his bones started creaking and his joints grew achy, it was another reminder that Adam got to grow while Kate was frozen in time. "Around here it's a pretty safe bet they know at least his biggest hits," he argued, but took into account the option to add other musical categories. "It would probably be good to have variety in the topics, too. I'll ask the staff what their favorite artists are and go from there." He reached out for the empty glass and quickly reached for the liquor to refill, handing it back to Miles wordlessly. "So, Harry Styles is someone to include, then? He's the boyband guy, right?"
Most days, Maggie could compartmentalize it. Her body, her mind, served to function at a base operating level in large part due to denial; it was easy for her to suppress the constant urge to flee, or scream, or cry. It came as second nature for her to recalibrate her feelings to suit those around her. The fatigue surrounding Jane was well-felt, most of all by her—a year out, very few people wanted to listen to her sob into her pillow about the way Jane said Maggie’s name, or the shape of her jaw as she threw her head back in a hearty cackle, or the color of her eyes when the sun hit them just right. Everything felt so inescapably bleak if she relented. And so, she didn’t. She forged ahead. It was what was expected. It was what needed to be done.
Adam understood, though. He understood that forging ahead did not equate to being ready to be ahead of it. He’d lived with his grief for much longer, but it had shaped him in such a way that it filled Maggie with a unique type of agony; what if it never got better? What if this was all there was? Jane, and losing Jane, was like an anchor in her chest—how would she be able to live carrying that weight? She wet her lips. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I know…if anyone has something meaningful to offer me, it’s you,” she said, though it was far from complimentary. “I just…I know it’s fucked up, but sometimes I want to sit in it. To just feel it, completely. I dunno.” She took a sip of her beer, then, flushing down the embarrassment. Shifting slightly, recalibrating herself, she smiled a little. “I will take you up on that tic-tac-toe, though.”
For a long moment, Adam eyed Maggie curiously. For the longest time she'd simply been Danny's friend, someone on the periphery of his life. Until she joined him in the Dead Partners Club, and from there they'd had a recognition of the other from the shared pain a loss like that can bring. And while this was an arguably significant trait to have in common, Adam also had to acknowledge that the blonde woman sitting across from him was very much her own person, completely different from himself. The coping techniques that worked for Adam -- namely; burying his feelings and bottling them up, refusing to ever discuss them with another person -- were not necessarily going to be helpful for her.
So he gave a small shrug of his shoulder and made his best attempt at what he hoped was a reassuring smile when she spoke again. "Yeah, you can absolutely do that," he replied with a short nod. "I've been told feeling your feelings is important," he tried to joke. "But yeah, you're welcome to do so. I hope it helps." He paused for another moment, and then took a few steps to grab the miniature tic tac toe game that had been sitting unused on the bar. "You wanna be x's or o's?" he asked after a moment.
Nursing another scotch, Miles hummed as Adam finished. "I don't think it's a waste of time." He confirmed quickly, adding. "I don't think it's old school, either. Trivia is fun, and nothing like a little marketing buzz with an event to drive up traffic." He agreed, offering a soft smile. "I would suggest a broader range of topics for categories, that way you're catering to more potential customers rather than just fans of E Street. But that's just me. I'd come, anyway."
"Ah, so it is a thing that those Gen Z kids are doing, then? I'm a little ... out of the loop, obviously," he replied, gesturing to himself. It was an alarming reality that Adam was no longer part of the youth, that he had phased out into representing The Man for a lot of people. It was unsettling, to say the least, knowing that he'd be discarded and replaced one day, too old to be of service any longer. But at least for now, he was still in touch with what people wanted. "See, I was thinking the E Street theme could work with the concert coming up, since it's all anyone I know seems to be talking about. But if it's too limiting, maybe it could be like ... a category or something?"
Maggie guffawed good-naturedly. She’d hardly say she had a handle on anything going on with Danny’s romantic life, though she generally tried to make it…easier for him, when she could. Still, she understood the mantra: you can’t fight true love, the heart wants what it wants, etc.; whether or not she believed in such sentiments didn’t really matter, least of all to Danny, and he was, generally, her primary concern these days.
She wiggled slightly in her seat, as if resettling into the stool, Adam’s gaze on her weighty and knowing. To become allies under such strange circumstances was a peculiar sort of test, a friendship borne not out of an inherent effort, per se, but the understanding, the notion of perception, the ache to be seen by someone else. Not once had Maggie had the gross luxury of believing herself to be alone in her pain, alone in the wake of such a loss, when she’d known Adam, known what he’d endured. Maggie couldn’t even face him for the first few months after losing Jane. Now, on a night like tonight, she wasn’t really sure who else she could stomach the thought of talking to. “If I’m being honest, I didn’t really come for advice,” she offered plainly. “I’m not…actually really entirely sure why I came, if I’m thinking about it. I guess I just…I didn’t want to be alone, and I knew you were probably here, and if I was with you, then…I wouldn’t be alone.” She shrugged, nonchalant — Maggie had a knack for making even the most abstract concepts simple.
The thing about grief, that so few people could understand if they hadn't experienced it, was this: it never goes away. The pain doesn't lessen. You grew around it, the lump that seemed lodged in the pit of your stomach, and eventually there was more space for joy, and relief, and excitement again. But the grief was always there. Adam understood Maggie's predicament; he simply had nearly twenty years of practice to cope with the feeling of loss that never truly went away.
Of course, in the time since Kate's last breath, Adam had plenty of opportunities to develop coping mechanisms, and to ignore said coping mechanisms in favor of poor decisions, and to eventually settle into something that felt enough like living for him. But it was a journey, and one that, seemingly, Maggie was still enduring. "Right, no advice. Sorry," he said automatically, raising a hand in acquiescence. "You're starting to sound like my sisters," he teased gently, although it reflected more on the nature of his sibling relationships. Was he really so lost in the sauce that his input wasn't valuable? But he kept his mouth shut and let Maggie continue to speak, and his face softened as she asked, in so many words, for company. "Well yeah, of course," he replied, shrugging a shoulder as if she had merely asked him to pour her a glass of water and not the disclosure that his company was helpful for her. "It's -- honestly, you're welcome to stop by whenever. Wish I could be more help, but at this point all I've got to offer is tic tac toe. Yours, if you want it."
@philly-starters
"I'm thinking of doing a trivia night," he opened, setting down the cloth he'd been using to wipe down tables. "It's in between sports seasons right now anyway, so we have to get foot traffic up again in the meantime. I don't know, is that still a thing that people go to?" He let out a sigh and looked at the emptier than usual scene before him. "I was going to make it E Street themed too for the concert coming up, but then it requires getting a prize, and assuming people actually want to come out..." Adam trailed off, and then looked at the person uncertainly. "What do you think, is it a total waste of time?"
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open to: anyone! @philly-starters where: dottie's donuts
“Hear me out.” Nothing good ever comes from those three words, but considering ‘sorry’ isn't and has never been in Mikayla's vocabulary, it’s the best she’s got. “I know this... isn’t what you ordered, but this is better. I call it the Mikayla Special of the Hour." She pushes the bag closer to the customer. "Do you want me to tell you what kind of donut it is, or do you want to be adventurous and try it?”
In the four times he'd tried this donut place in the past two months, not once had Adam actually received what he'd asked for. At this point, he really should have known better than to give his money to the place, but he had a staff meeting and wanted a gesture of goodwill for his employees. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to find the strength not to be rude with the worker who likely was trying her best. "I absolutely do not want to be surprised," he said with a completely straight face. "And I've got about ten other people who don't want to be surprised, so if you could fill me in on what exactly the special of the .... hour ... is, that'd be great."
“Aw c'mon, I’m sure you’d kill it out here, doing the little flips and shit.” She remembered, quite fondly, her time with Kate. It was among the few times she truly felt like a child, hanging out with her babysitter as she listened to her go on and on about her then boyfriend, soon to be husband. Vee was devastated at her passing but more than appreciative that Adam had kept in touch, because it made her feel like she was more than just a kid that Kate had babysat. “Freezing? In winter? How is that so?” She laughed at her own joke, slowing down to look at him. “I took an Uber here so I’ll probably just grab one back, it’s fine.”
It was a testament to how quickly time could pass, when it felt like Vee had gone from gangly girl to adult woman seemingly overnight. She was a tether to the Kate they'd each known and loved in their own way, and the knowledge of how fond Kate had been of the girl compelled Adam to check on her the way he would with his own brother, and nieces and nephews as well. "Yeah, yeah," he replied to her teasing with a small eyeroll, although his tone held no malice. "Freezing in winter, groundbreaking I know. But still." His eyebrows rose slightly when she mentioned getting a ride back, and gave a small shrug. "You want a ride? I'm already here and I don't mind driving. Save you some money, at least."
“Well, he’s getting laid, so I don’t know that I’d call that important work,” she retorted quickly, leaning back to survey her options on tap. Her eyes widened in slight surprise as she watched Adam retreat wordlessly to fulfill her nonverbal request, returning quickly with a full, chilled glass. She offered a small, appreciative smile, taking it to down a large sip. “It does make him more tolerable, though, so—thank God for small miracles.”
Maggie allowed her gaze to linger on Adam for a moment, attempting to discern whether or not he was genuinely interested in the answer to his own question. She was surprised to find she didn’t feel particularly reticent to admit the truth to him, despite her deep insecurity. She wasn’t sure when, exactly, she’d found a somewhat tacit level of comfort with him, an assumed camaraderie. “…I don’t sleep well,” she admitted just loud enough to hear above the ambient music, casting Adam a weighted glance. “I’ve tried everything. Melatonin, chamomile tea, Ambien. Alcohol.” She let her eyes fall to the bar top, a wry, rueful curl to her lips. “I don’t know when this started, because the first couple of months all I could do is sleep.”
"I don't know if I'd call it important work, either," he agreed easily, reaching out with Maggie's drink of choice and placing it gently on the bartop. "But he would call it important work, is the thing." Was Danny right to say as much? Adam was in no position to judge. Human beings were generally sexual creatures and aside from the choice of long term partner, his baby brother's sexual activities were of very little concern when Adam had his own worries to focus on. "I'll take your word for it. If we're honest," he said, grabbing a near-empty glass left by a customer, "I figure you've got the handle on all .... that."
Adam placed the dirty glass on the rack, and gestured for a bartender to grab the rack and replace it with a fresh one before turning back to Maggie, his attention fully directed at her. Aside from the obvious similarities between them and their experiences of grief, there was a sense of ... not duty, exactly, but feeling of responsibility for her in the same way of feeling responsibility for his manchild brother. He listened intently as she described her difficulty sleeping, and he searched her face or any sign that she might be holding back the full truth. He nodded in understanding, letting out a deep breath. "I feel obligated to remind you that alcohol is not an ideal coping mechanism," he replied, almost automatically. "Force of habit, in this," Adam gestured at the scene before them, "kind of environment." He knew all too well the ways grief could upend any and all routine in one's life. "I wish I had more to offer, I'm sorry. Have you considered just .... not trying to force sleep? Or going to a different room?"
Danny: i know, i've been on a waitlist for one for like over a year Danny: okay pinhead larry Danny: you're too old to understand that reference but it's also derogatory
Adam: Oh, so you're jealous that you're not the italian greyhound. That makes more sense. Adam: I don't even think that's a reference I want to know tbh Adam: Maybe if you got more sleep you wouldn't be so grumpy.
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Danny: okay first of all what the fuck Danny: well you look like an italian greyhound Danny: (derogatory)
Adam: italian greyhounds are popular dogs how is that derogatory Adam: i'm not the one getting upset about being compared to a dog.
There special perks that came with working at the rink, especially because she’d been skating there since she was three. The owners trusted her implicitly so they allowed her some free skate time after hours and allowed her to have not only her own key, but the alarm code. It was only half an hour after closing, just after 9:30, and she was just doing some basic spins & jumps when she heard the door open across the rink. She looked up slightly as she stopped spinning, calling out, “Hey, sorry, we’re closed right now! Come back tomorrow, we open at eight!”
“Don’t worry, I’m not here to skate,” he called out as he stepped further into the stands around the rink. He’d developed decent skills with time, especially during the period of time in middle school when every one of his friends wanted to spend their birthday at the ice rink, but Adam would also be just fine if he never went ice skating again. Adam held up his hand in greeting to Vee, wondering how the fully grown adult on the ice could have been the same child whom Kate had adored. “Just stopped by on my way home. The door was open. You got a way home? It’s freezing out there.”
