#riggsanity

Riley growled something about being forced to pack a toothbrush, enough food for an army, and Beth not understanding what a guy's weekend meant as he deposited his things into the back of the SUV and climbed into the back seat.

There was a round of jokes and laughter from the assembled car - Brian, Luka, and Martin all teased Riley about how long it had taken him to be ready as Brian got the car moving again.  

A whole weekend to themselves up in the mountains. Brian wasn't exactly eager to get away from his wife, but there was a certain allure to a weekend of testosterone, cards, and whiskey.

Plus, these guys had become more than a crew of misfits. They'd become real friends. Brothers even.

It was only an hour and a half drive up to the small cabin, but it felt like a whole different world.

Riggs opened up a can of beer before they were even parked, tossing one to Luka over the roof of the car, which was caught with a nod of thanks. It only took a few moments to unload, although it looked like a small liquor store had been pillaged for the trip.

Brian opened up the front door and grabbed his own beer as the guys started ferrying everything inside. "Beer fridge is in the kitchen, the bedroom on the right is mine, drop your other crap wherever you want." He directed before slamming the entire beer in one long series of gulps. "So, what are you making us for dinner, Drewski?" An eyebrow raised in amusement.

"That's right, we got ourselves a genuine chef over here." Riggs chimed in.

Riley tossed his bag in the general direction of the left side bedroom and set a bottle of whiskey on the kitchen table with a clunk. "Well, I was going to make chicken wings but my sister insisted we had some kind of vegetables this weekend. So, I'm doing carnitas tacos with a nice slaw." He gave a shrug.

"S'o 'ery noi'ce choice." Luka smiled. The others nodded in agreement.

"So nice of her to be concerned about our health." Brian joked, waving in the direction of the pile of beer cases that Luka was working on getting loaded into the refrigerator.

"I'm pretty sure whiskey is a fruit." Riggs offered with a grin.

Luka tossed another full can in Brian's direction. "No way Be'd e'er agree ta d'at one."

"Hey, what's on our itinerary this weekend, Mr. Cruise Director?" Riggs asked as Brian opened his fresh beer.

Brian gave a shrug, "Beer can shooting gallery? Maybe a little fishing in the morning?"

"I am not getting up early to go fishing." Riggs cautioned with a finger extended.

"Ditto." Luka chorused.

"Pussies." Brian drawled. "Don't worry, the trout assassin has you covered." He chuckled. "Maybe some Hearts tonight? There's a deck of cards somewhere around here."

"Card with the 'tards." Riggs laughed.

"Hell yeah, I'm in." Riley gave Brian a high-five.

"Ye gimme ta basics oi'll pick i' up." Luka shrugged, ready to take up the challenge.

“Sweet! Loser of each hand has to take a shot.” Brian started rummaging through the cupboards to find a pack of cards.

It was going to be a fun weekend.

(a spiritual sequel to [x])

Three cops and a seal walk into a bear.

No, that’s not a typo.

____________________________

Cards and whiskey. A cigar or two. Conversation that grows louder and bolder with each round. Trash talking, outrageous claims. Women mentioned then passed over because this is time is carved out for the sacred bonds of brotherhood. Affection expressed through digs at size and stamina and all kinds of insults that would make any locker room proud.

A typical boy’s weekend away.

Ask Gamble, Riggs, O’Rian or Riley which one of them had the bigger pile of poker chips at 3am and you’ll get four different answers. And if you ask who heard the rustling outside and decided it was a matter worth investigating, there will be no consensus. Every reality from Gamble grabbing a gun to Riley roaring rambunctiously will be floated as a potential version of who was to blame.

Between us, gentle reader, the real culprit for the mayhem that followed, was alcohol.

Four men, trained warriors with enough deadly prowess between them to overthrow a small nation, emerged from the cabin. All were primed to defend their territory from any nefarious intruder that sought to rob them, or perhaps they were to expunge a cartel chasing Riggs in retribution for a conviction. Whatever the source of the noise, they were ready to unleash complete annihilation.  

That was, until they finally traced the low, scratching sounds to their source. Hunched among the shadows, so bold as to even dare have its back to our brave heroes, hulked an Ursus americanus. More commonly known as a black bear. The creature had already toppled one waste receptacle, although the treasures of food scraps within remained beyond its reach. Another trash can stood resilient for the present and the bear extended spine and limbs to assess the target from a greater height. The concealment of night and an overall state of inebriation made true measurements impossible but should the bear and O’Rian, the tallest of the posse, stand back to back, the Ursus might have the extra inch.

Now, in truth, three cops and a SEAL did not actually walk into a foraging bear. In tandem the foursome managed to screech to a halt before such a full-on collision occurred. Various hands landed on various shoulders, establishing a dynamic about whom clearly thought their companions capable of proceeding with fighting a tooth-and-claw death machine at 3am in the morning. (Whether this was a badge of honor or the beginning of a long-standing grudge is a story for another time). The bear, for its part, showed scant interest in the scuffling going on behind it. For all the hearts that swooned from the East Coast to the West over the four men, they currently could not compete with a sealed off bag of rotting fruit that a camper had deposited several days prior.

While Smokey’s persistent cousin began gnawing on the corner of the container, Riggs, Riley, O’Rian and Gamble began a cautious retreat. One slow step then another. They admittedly were not as stealthy as their minds perceived, but if a cops stumbles over a branch in the woods and no one is sober enough to remember it, does it even happen? By the time they were back within the cabin walls, what had seemed such an enormous danger had softened into the safety of an amusing encounter. Jokes about what bears do in the woods began to fill the air. More whiskey was poured. They laughed while all silently agreeing to never speak again of mistaking a hungry bear for a pack of master assassins.

If only they had shared the presence of thought to erase the security camera footage, dear reader.

That being said we begin.

~~~~~~~

The First I will mention is @brooklynislandgirl: Turtle is my everything. She is my best friend, my sister, my advice giver, my mentor, and my role model. She never fails to come to my aid when I need her. She is kind, she is sassy, she is sarcastic. And most of all she is there for me when I need her the most. She never gets the credit she deserves. Not nearly as much praise gets sent her way. But I know that I can’t wait to sing her achievements even when she doesn’t want me to. 

Why, because she is the best thing in my life and I would never have come back to Tumblr if it wasn’t for her. I have tried in the past and never got my feet under me. But now, I have had the best four years of role playing and getting to know some amazing people. All because we came here together. She is the Lilo to my Stitch. The Sun rise to my Sunset. The Ying to my Yang. She keeps me balanced and I woe her more than I could ever repay her. 

The Second I will mention is @riggsanity / @jerseysass / @goodlawman: This beautiful Mun has a way of bringing her Muses to life. To giving them more depth and substance than they had before. In every post you can hear what Muse that she is writing, swearing they stepped off the screen and where writing themselves into posts. This is a hard thing to do and yet, they have mastered the art of it. 

And if you need a positive spot in your life, this is a person you need. She is always kind and I can’t thank her enough for lifting my spirits when things got too dark. Need to scream about headcanons? Want to swap ideas? just need to talk to someone. Come to her she will always be there. 

The Third I will mention is @stevenjmcgarrett​ / @diazxeddie: Speaking of positive, this amazing person is new to my life, but I can’t imagine what it would be like without her. She is always ready to start a thread. She bright, bubbly, funny, and one of the most interesting people I know. We have so much in common that it blows my mind. And the kindest, sweetest person that leaves me feeling better about life. 

I suggest that if you need someone to chat with, one of the best to do it. She always has a story at hand that will leave you smiling. And so welcoming that you never feel out of place. 

The Fourth I will mention is @whosxafraid: My bird. One of my closest friends, and one of the first people who was willing to give my Muse a chance. There is so much I want to say that I can’t even put into words. I can only hope that I have brought her as much cheer as she brings to me. I can’t thank you enough for the last four years. Four can you believe that?

The way this Bird writes is gorgeous. There is nothing that isn’t pure creativity. And yet reading it is like being inside of someone else’s head. Having a front row seat to the thoughts and feelings that my not be expressed. It takes your breath away and the devotion to writing an accent is dumbfounding. To have the courage to stick to your style and never give into the demands of others. It just leaves  you wanting more.

With love, 

  The Pheasant of Positivity, 

“Oh, don’t even think you can shame me with that. My two favourite ponies were from back in the eighties. Blue Belle’s my girl, and of the big brothers, I always liked Quarterback best. He and I had a lot in common.”

Riley grins around his doughnut he’s chewing and lifts up his coffee mug, as arrogant as smug as ever. Because somewhere in a box, he still has all of his and Beth’s pony collection, pristinely kept and loved all these years, and ready to be given to his future daughter when she’s old enough not to have them as a choking hazard.

Danny’s frowned got a bit more pronounced as he shook his head, one of his hands sliding inside his pocket while the other one waved around aimlessly in the air for a brief moment. “I try not to put too much thought to what it’s his pockets, to tell you the truth.”

Childhood

You ask him ‘n Ron’ll tell yah - nothing about his upbringing set him up to dabble in the less than legal bits of his work. Raised most by his mum ‘n his aunties - ‘B’cause me dad’s a no-account piece’a shite, mate’ - his boyhood was almost idyllic; much as the family wasn’t well off and had its ups and downs like anyone’s. He had days out at the park, trips to the swimming baths, games of ball and chase and hunt with his pals, picnic days; long summers and longer winters with carefree sunbathing and snowball fights. And all this, always, with his brother Reggie at his hip. They were inseparable when they were little, were the twins; so much so that they shared a bed ‘til they were too old to - too long in the limb and wanting of privacy. But even then, as they grew, there was rarely just the one of them. Rare did people say ‘Oh how’s Ronnie?’ or ‘Oh how’s Reggie?’ It was always ‘How’s th’twins?’ or ‘How’s th’boys?’ and Violet, their mother, always knew which two they were asking after - much as she did have a third son.