COME WHAT MAY

𝐌𝐀𝐘 𝐕𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐍

full name: May Vaisman, gender & pronouns: cis woman & she/her age & date of birth: 33, March 19th 1990 where do they live: Southside time living in lockwood springs: Entire life minus 2 years. occupation: Destination Ink Owner positive traits: Congenial, Intuitive, Observant, Wise negative traits:  Indulgent, Overly-Magnanimous, Superstitious, Trusting face claim: Nathalie Emmanuel

“Are you looking for someone?” May practically shouts in Kenzie’s ear over the music of Decades. Drink in hand, she’s enjoying a night out with her cousin (their grandma being the MVP and watching Koda for the night) but she can’t help but notice Kenzie’s gaze all over the place. “Did you wanna go?” she says, pointing to the exit with a question on her face as she takes another sip of her drink. It makes no difference to her, she just wanted to get her out of the house for something other than work. @kenzievaisman​ 

Jett settled into the seat and waited to hear what May thought about his ideas. “I was thinking right here,” he took off his shirt and pointed to the right side of his chest where he was pretty sure his heart was. “Over my heart. Or is it over here? I can’t remember.” He laughed when she pointed to her ring finger then let out a lengthy sigh. “Tried that already. Twice.” Spence counted on his hand while he told her the story. “First time was not long after high school and the other time when she told me she was pregnant. Both times were a hard no, unfortunately. So I’ve been uh, working on being better the last couple years and waiting for the right moment.” Jett shrugged. “It’ll happen one day. It has to.”

•

“That could work,” she affirms as he shows her where he’s thinking. Grabbing her sketchbook, May thinks for a moment, “so you do want it more cartoony? Or is it just if that works best?” Sometimes clients gave a bunch of ideas but really only liked one. She’d rather the piece be something they actually wanted, rather than just what they thought she could do. Snorting at his story, May smiles, “ah, well. At least she knows what she wants, right? I’m sure you’ll find the right time,” she encourages with a nod. “How’re the kids doing?”

at: destination ink @mayxvaisman​

-

Rigo’s laugh could be heard before he was seen, venturing into the tattoo studio as he finished up a conversation with a passing stranger. As soon as his eyes locked to May, another smile flashed to her. “Que onda, mami?” he greeted loudly and energetically, pacing to the front desk so he could lean his arms against it. He formed a quick frown then. “You gotta promise to not be too mad, okay? Pretty sure I scratched the motherfucker more than I shoulda.” he pulled one sleeve to his elbow, showing the damage of blown out lines. “Could be worse though, right? But think you can fix it?” He laughed again, answering his own question. “Of course you can, what am I saying? You’re the best around.”

•

May glances up at the sound of the bell above the door, huffing a laugh at Rigo’s greeting. “Not sure I believe my eyes. Ghost in my shop as I live and breathe? That was fast. You were barely in.” Last she heard he’d been picked up. She leans forward to inspect the tattoo, giving him a pointed but not unkind look. “Last time I do it as a courtesy, yeah? Not a charity, Rigo.” She’s nice but not a pushover. “I need to finish some stuff first so give me ten minutes.” It turns out owning a small business was never cut and dry and she needed to finish updating payroll for the week, clicking away at the computer up front. “Anyway, how is it that you get a million poke and stick pieces but somehow it’s only mine you need fixed?” May raises a brow, more so amused than anything. 

Dusty laughed to the correction, always finding it weird that May had a positive look on things but then again, cockroach wasn’t exactly a bad thing he thought. The offer of food distracted him quickly and his long arm reached across so he could snatch it for himself, taking a bite out of it quickly and condemning the rest of their conversation to be with his muffled mouthful. “It didn’t seem like a cult, that’s how they get you right? They just said they gave out tattoos and do acid and I was like, hey that’s me.” he shrugged, some crumbs falling from his mouth as he ignored the mess he was making. “Picture? I got it in the flesh.” he then said loudly, holding the sandwich with his mouth as he spun around and pulled down his already loose fitting jeans. The boxers came down after and before May even had a chance to see a thing, Dusty delivered a quick and crisp slap onto his pale ass cheek. “You can see why Jesus wanted to brand this ol’ sweetus rumpus, but I ask you to not touch.” he said haughtily and raising his finger.  “Until we’re on the tattoo bed, that classes as sexual harassment.”

•

May supposes he’s right. It’s how a lot of smarter people ended up in cults or starting them. Just look at Tom Cruz. “Well do us both a favor and next time you’re looking for a tattoo, just ask, yeah? Easier to do a new one than fix a shitty one.” She shakes her head and is about to tell him she can probably think of something without seeing it just yet but then he’s pantsing himself and May’s hands fly up to wide eyes, mostly obscuring her gaze. “Oh jeeze, Dusty. You can’t just––” She coughs, not sure how to explain normal decorum to him. “But uh...got it.” It sure does say Jesus loves me.  Right, you can pull your pants up now please. No harassment here, Dusty. Promise.” 

Dusty seemed spontaneous but there was a routine to his disappearances and also his returns. He’d make the rounds seeing everybody once he got back, mostly his brothers and sometimes Kenzie if she seemed like she wouldn’t bite his head off. Finn, Hunter who just stared at him. And some people who never noticed he was gone but May was always an exception. “Always, I’m the Southside cockroach.” he said proudly, moving a hand over his body seductively. “Takes a lot to put me down but not a lot to get me up.” he swayed his shoulders as he winked. “Oh May, I’m pretty sure I joined a cult. Which is why I’m here, actually. Funny story, I thought when they said tattoo upon entry it was one of those stickers you know? Like the spiderman shit and I was like oh cool, that sounds good. So I went for it and basically, long story short, I have Jesus Loves Me on my ass cheek. Can we do something about it?” he coughed slightly. “And no, not the Jesus you’re thinking. This Jesus was 6ft and had very…rough hands.”

•

May laughs at his display, shaking her head. “Not a cockroach,” she corrects kindly, “just resilient.” She’s sure he doesn’t care about the semantics of it but she’s always been a firm believer that you’ve gotta put out positive thoughts into the world and that words mattered. “Well, I’m glad to hear it. Hungry?” She nods at the half sandwich on the counter from her lunch. She had plans with Kenzie for dinner anyway and hated to waste. Putting some more tools away, she pauses to give him a second glance, brows raised as she laughs, uncertain whether he’s being serious or not. “Seriously?” It’s not funny but he says it in such a cavalier way he may as well have been talking about the weather or what he had for breakfast. “Jesus, Dusty. I mean. Literally Jesus. What kinda cult –– actually,” she holds up a hand, “I’m not sure I want to know. But uh...” she rubs her elbow, debating about whether to help or not before giving into her worse, most helpful instinct. “Do you have a picture of it or something...” she squints. She’s done tattoos in interesting places but that doesn’t mean she wants to see Dusty’s bare ass right now. “Maybe I can like...see if we can change it around or something if you do...” 

“Sorry we’re –” closing soon. May was about to say because she’d meant to turn the sign but had gotten distracted cleaning some supplies. It turns out it wasn’t necessary when she sees who it is. “Dusty!” She brightens at the sight of her friend whom she’d admittedly been quite worried about. But, from what she recalled from living in Lockwood before, this is just how he rolled. Unpredictable and unconcerned. “You’re alive. And in one piece? I think.” She squints dramatically, as though trying to discern if he was actually alright. He seemed pretty normal Dusty level to her. “Where’d you wander off to this time?” she asks, curious. She knows people say not to worry but she does. Mostly because she knows most people don’t give his whereabouts a second thought but she thinks everyone should have people who worried about them, whether or not it was necessary. @dusty-anderson​

Being in the predicament was nothing new to the Anderson and Dusty could find barrels of amusement from it. The alcohol in his system made sure of that. When he saw May, his tiny squirrel brain treated it as a reunion, or a sign that the party should keep going. “May!” Dusty greeted, trying to open his arms but he was met with a harsh halt of the handcuffs which clanged loudly against the radiator. “I don’t even…I don’t know what happened. One minute I was trying to have a good time and the next minute I’m here.” he tried to gesture with his hands, but since his wrists couldn’t move his long fingers simply wiggled. “I think Lockwood Springs is boring. Everyone forgot how to have a good time.” he laughed, nodding with his nose towards his pack of smokes. “Be an absolute little star, would you?”

•

May gives him a haphazard wave, uncertain what to make of the situation. She can assume that he’d gotten into some sort of trouble but what exactly is anyone’s guess. Still, she listens with an open mind as he explains himself, brows still raised. “Well...I guess all good things, or times, come to an end?” May offers before spotting the cigarettes and chuckling softly to herself. “I hate to be the party pooper, Dusty but you’re gonna set off an alarm.” Still, she picks up the pack and nods at him, “Can you stand if you move the cuff up?” May moves around Dusty, partially clambering onto the windowsill behind him to push up the window. “Because if you can, I’ll give them to you.” Leave it to May to try and find a solution. “Here,” she says, offering him a hand to help him to his feet.

                           “Oh God, and now we’re them.” Kenzie laughed, a little louder than anticipated. The Vaisman Laugh was a trademark, and they’d all blend together like a chorus when they had family meals. “You remember when we’d be trying to sleep and we’d think they finally finished and then the 80s tunes came on and we’d be like…welp, guess it’s not over yet. I don’t know how they thought we slept through all that.” Those were the days, Kenzie thought to herself. Back when her tiny southside home seemed bigger, and the world seemed a little less stressful. “Tracy Chapman?” Kenzie glanced to her cousin with a confused furrow of brows. She was soon wondering if she was caught out in a little lie, so she tried to reposition herself slightly away from May. “Yeah I saw him. Grabbing a snack. It’s not a big deal. Free country.” Kenzie blabbed, shooting a look to May as if to say do not.

•

“Completely. Though I like to think we don’t wake Koda up…that often,” she says with a grin, gently patting her nephew’s cheek in his sleep. “Between I wanna dance with somebody and Purple rain, I’m not sure how we ever slept.” But the memory fills May with warmth, recollecting nights spent giggling with Kenzie as they listened to their moms singing and laughing and she remembers that, even then, she knew she wanted that for herself. To grow older and closer to her family and the people she loves most. May snaps her fingers, pointing at Kenzie with a knowing look, accidentally jostling Koda a bit and making an oops face before whispering loudly. “I knew it. Did you talk? He got taller right?” She’s grinning from ear to ear, unable to help herself. She just wants to the tea, is that so wrong?

edison high school

@mayxvaisman​

Dusty’s original plan to spend the weekend as drunk as possible had been sidetracked. Bobby Anderson’s ugly old wrinkly face derailed the fun for a little while. But no problemo, Dustin was always better at drinking to forget things. “Oi, psst.” he called out when he heard footsteps near the door. His British accent gave away the current alcohol levels in his blood stream. “The bloody copper cuffed me.” he added, wiggling his wrists so the handcuffs clanked against the pipe he had been attached to. At least it was warm. “Sheriff Shalahamaham-han said I needed to…coooool awf.” Dusty laughed, as his accent slipped back to his usual tone and yet sounded like a British person trying to be American. A bubbly hiccup caught in his throat when May walked into view, and Dusty unashamedly winked. “Ello ello, who’s this pretty little fing.” He knew her very well actually, probably the only Southsider that didn’t think he was an idiot. Or, he thought she didn’t think he was an idiot. Or something. “Help.”

•

May walks the familiar halls of Edison High without much purpose. She’s left Koda sleeping in the care of his mom and has ambled around to stave off boredom. The small sketchbook tucked away in her coat pocket calls to her to pass the time but she hasn’t found anything worth drawing yet. After all, the high school is hardly original (or inspirational) though she doesn’t hate it like some people. Still, she remembers her way around surprisingly well and pokes around the open classrooms. Most of the more spacious ones have been claimed by families and she wonders if there are any left for her, Kenzie and Koda. When she comes to one of the smaller ones, she peers in to hear someone talking and a halting laugh escapes. “Dusty?” she furrows her brow, walking in and around a bunch of desks to see Dusty handcuffed to the radiator pipe. “Oh jeez, what happened? Actually...maybe I don’t want to know,” she says, smiling incredulously at the Anderson. She’s somehow not surprised at all but still, admittedly, a bit curious. 

                           Kenzie tucked an invisible braid behind her ear, poking her tongue to the corner of her lips as she chuckled. “That’s thanks to me, this mama vacuumed a lot during nap time.” she said with a small shimmy of shoulders. “But, now I can’t wake him up so…pros and cons.” she rolled her eyes but then smiled when she saw her cousin tussle through Koda’s curls. Kenzie sat back to relax, imagining what it would feel like to be a kid again. “Weird that we refused to nap so much as kids, right? Really didn’t realize how good they are.” she thought aloud with a hum, closing her eyes for a moment. They sprung open when May had some gossip, making Kenzie sit up like she had been given a surge of energy. “Ooh, tell me. You know who I haven’t seen yet? Dusty. But I know he’s gotta be here, any chance to terrorize the whole town at once it’s like his dream.”

•

May grins at that, a fond smile crossing her lips as she leans her head back against the wall. “Come to think about it, our moms would do the same thing. Like. Do you remember how they’d tell us to go to sleep but then stay up laughing until who knows when?” Fond memories surface as she recalls sleepovers with each other growing up. The way their mothers’ laughter would carry and fill the house with warmth. She huffs a laugh, nodding in agreement. “What’s that saying? Never know what you’ve got ‘till it’s gone? I think siestas are the only thing Spain got right.” Said with a wry smile as she waggles a brow. “Adam Seyed? I didn’t know he was back in town.” She casts a watchful eye at her cousin, “did you?”

“Okay, okay,” May wheezes, eyes watering, “that one was definitely the most sour,” she says, reaching for her water with one hand and pointing to the discarded blue raspberry warhead extreme wrapper in the middle of the pile of candy between her and Onyx. Camped out in the high school makes her feel like she’s at some giant sleepover she’d have called her mom to pick her up from back in the day. But it also brings back memories of time spent in her best friend’s company, something she’d missed a great deal while in Denver. “But I haven’t tried the lemon,” she gulps down some water, looking over at them as she coughs, “Jesus, that was horrible. Why do we do this again?” For years, they’d been on the hunt for the most sour candy and it seems like each time they thought they found it, they discovered the next worst one. @onyxpoe​