these currents are still killing me

sweetcatastrophes | multimuse blog, penned by jann for turtle bay rp

muse index & navigation. blog resources (general)

Simon Ryskamp, 42, he/him, writer

Michiel Huisman fc intro | navi | bio | history | connections | headcanons

Eli Nichols, 34, she/her, travel influencer

Meghann Fahy fc intro | navi | bio | history | connections | headcanons

Tate Atkinson, 36, he/him, financial analyst

Henry Golding fc intro | navi | bio | history | connections | headcanons

Gabe Ellis, 37, he/him, club security

Stephen Amell fc intro | navi | bio | history | connections | headcanons

Romy Bell, 37, she/her, event host

Romy had been racking her brain for hours as she stocked, cleaned, and stuck to other various and sundry tasks about the bar. She was currently running dry on trivia night topics, lacking as she was in the desire to do anything sports related during playoff seasons, and tapped out of pop culture as she had been of late. She needed to take a week off and spend some quality time with streaming services to catch up, most likely. It was just that the weather was beautiful and that sounded boring.

"If you don't give me something," she threatened legitimately, though her tone was light, "I'm doing a trivia night tonight on politics and you know how many bar fights that's likely to stir up."

Tate had never really had the inclination to take care of another creature, but moving to Turtle Bay had changed him (somewhat). A trip to the shelter, looking for connection, lead to the unlikely adoption of a young cat. Not quite a kitten, but barely on his way from it. It had been his little sister who suggested an introductory vet appointment, which told him how out of his depth he was.

"So, I've never had a cat before. Just tell me what you think is best and I'll do it."

Simon wasn't really into happy hour, for the most part, but that's where his agent wanted to meet and when she was available, so he found a clean button down, ran an honest-to-God comb through his hair that was getting a little too long, and made sure his shoes matched. He could play the part, could clean up, could show up -- in spite of his lack of doing so recently.

He was well aware the level of familiarity he shared with the agent, a woman about his wife's age thanks to his previous business relationship with her mother, was obvious to anyone around them. He was careful about how and when they were in public together.

He wasn't sure how he felt about eyeballing his brother-in-law from across the room as his meeting with Danielle finished. While not easily intimidated since every last shred of secrecy he'd ever possessed had been doxxed, he could admit that Billy was intimidating. If for no other reason, strictly because of his family, intelligence, and skill. Where Kate's helping of those same characteristics was warm and familiar to him, Billy's was not. He still wasn't sure what to make of the guy.

But that didn't mean he could ignore him in public either, right? So, however reluctantly, he approached.

"Mr. Smythe. Can I get you a drink before I head home?"

Gabe wasn't really into buying flowers. They were too impractical, a gesture that died out a week after and left a guy back at square one. But he was back to his parents' couch, in a manner of speaking, and his mom liked having something fresh on the kitchen table. He knew he was just past Mother's Day, having done something decidedly more original for that holiday, but he hoped there would be something available nevertheless.

He'd been wandering around for at least twenty minutes, with no real clue what he was looking at besides "flowers". Finally, sheepishly, he approached the counter.

"Hi," he said, trying and mostly failing to apply a smile to his otherwise curmudgeonly face. "My mom asked me to come find her a centerpiece, but I'm at a loss. It's just for her every day kitchen table, not a special occasion or anything. Do you have anything that might work?"

While Gabe didn't leave his parents' house much more than to work (forced) or workout (for his own good), the few times he had, it was strange to run into people that he had known before. This time, he'd agreed to meet his former lieu for lunch, so it wasn't unexpected to run into other people he'd known in his life before. That didn't make it any less weird or awkward. At least in this case, the detective had always been his superior, a couple of years ahead in life and department progression, so it wasn't abnormal to feel less than.

"Hello, detective," he demurred a little. "Good to see you. How have you been?"

{ introducing romy bell }

Gabe had come into town for one simple errand, something out of his new normal that he expected to run smoothly. Apparently, that was too much to ask, because as he exited the place that hadn't had what he needed anyway, he stumbled into some fresh hell, sprinkled with vaguely familiar faces. The familiarity was probably more related to the fact that he'd lived here for formative decades than it was to anything else. Still, he was automatically too irritated to parse out what was happening, asking the first person he could find. “Please tell me there’s a reasonable explanation for this, because I’m fresh out of patience.”

Just another night in paradise, Gabe thought as he stared out the window at his father's bar. instead of paying attention to the door. No one had come through in at least thirty minutes, which actually made that timespan feel like a year.

It wasn't that he resented his father's help, exactly. It was that he resented needing the help in the first place. He resented his choices and himself, and that was a hell of a lot harder to reconcile when he didn't have something to keep his mind occupied or his body active.

The appearance of his older brother, who definitely had more of his shit together, didn't particularly help quell anything that was churning inside him. Maybe he could talk Julian into watching the door so he could go run around the block.

"Here to save me from myself?" He asked, trying to keep his voice light so it sounded less like hope and more like kidding.