Topher Romijn

she spends a solid 5 minutes in her truck, trying to gather up the courage to finally exit it and make her way into the club. she doesn't know why she's so anxious, she knows topher and she knows it's going to be a good time. maybe it's the fact that logan isn't usually very involved in pride events. or maybe it's because she doesn't have very many friends, let along ones she goes out with. either way, she finally manages to get out of her truck and walk into the club.

it doesn't take logan long to locate topher on the other side of the club and it's clear that when she spots them they see her at the same time. she can't help the smile that slowly stretches across her face, feeling her anxiety melt away as she makes her way to meet her friend. "foam!" she yells back, trying to match their energy. "wow, i love your outfit! you haven't been waiting for me long, have you?"

“No not at all!” Topher said, they also had no idea how long they’d been standing there, so it didn’t matter. They patted their outfit, slowly pushing their shoulders together. “Thank you,” they said. “My roommate helped me with my hair, I usually don’t like colour that much, but I can’t just go in grey tones for pride,” they said. They pointed the way into the club. “Ready to go in? First drink is on me, what would you like?”

Half of what Topher was saying went over her head, and Sofia laughed as they casually explained it. "I don't know what the Flemish or the Walonians are, but I do know I got sent to a super rich school where more kids spoke French than Spanish which felt entirely useless is Southern California so I think it would be so sucky to live somewhere that you spoke a language no one else did. Feels...lonely."

They grinned. “Basically Belgium is two countries, but nobody accepts that. Flanders, where they speak Flemish, which is a dialect of Dutch, and Wallonia, where they speak French. I’m from Wallonia, but my dad was from Flanders, so he spoke Dutch to me growing up, and my mom continued when he was gone,” he admitted. It was rare for them to talk about their father. “That sounds fun, and a little bit… useless. French only makes sense when you’re close to France, Canada, or one of the former colonies.” They bit their lip. “Are you fluent in Spanish?” they asked. 

The idea of Sofia moving away completely forgotten, Topher beamed. “I can teach you Dutch! It’s a difficult language because it’s Germanic, but it has a lot of English words and influences. Oh, and a lot of French and Spanish influences too. We can watch my favourite Dutch movie.” 

Living alone has always felt incredibly lonely.

"I got home from the hospital really late — " she explained; blue on brown, "I've had uh, two — three hours maybe." she wasn't trying to be dramatic, the blonde was pleased with the amount. Usually, there were nights where she barely slept.

"Would you like some breakfast? I can make us waffles."

They took a sip from their bean water and frowned. “Are you sure you want to make waffles? On two hours of sleep, I can also make some kind of breakfast… not waffles though,” they joked. “Maybe not even something decent… I’d probably just run down to the store.” 

Ever vigilant, he couldn't help but step into that elder role, watching over the younger ones. Social work was not just a job for him—it was a permanent mark of his identity. Empathy was his greatest gift. "Don't worry." He holds his hands up in a gesture of reassurance. "I trust you." He wasn't about to make choices for another person. He had plenty of practice with Logan; even if a choice was safe for someone, it wasn't a viable option until they decided it for themselves.

At the mention of hangovers, flashbacks of a few cruel ones overtook his mind. He was fortunate to forget most of them, but some had left indelible scars. Despite his desire for the Amir of the past to lay to rest, there were always reminders he wasn't proud of. "Electrolytes, actually, and pickle juice were always my go-to remedies. Cola's not bad, but I agree it does help with hangovers." He nods thoughtfully. "Water, though, can help with pacing—"

The human nodded, not that they needed to be told someone trusted them, despite the utter weirdness their life had been lately, Topher still did not care what older people thought of them. They would gladly take something to drink however if it was offered. They frowned. “Pickle juice?” they asked, looking a bit confused that anyone would consider that. Not that Topher was hung over often, they tended to drink mostly to look like they were drinking, but at the end of the night they wanted to make sure they could still beat someone’s ass if needed. “Hmmm,” Topher considered that. “But cola is nicer.”

"Italy would be nice too," she nodded, hoping to let the topic go so she didn't have to keep upsetting Topher by reiterating her feelings.

Sofia knew how he meant it, though the flirting was fine too. Sofia didn't think he was that much of a jerk he'd actively try and steal her away from Micah. If she thought that then they wouldn't be friends. "Are you winning these fights? How in awe should I be of your arse kickery?"

He grinned proudly. "Most of them yes," he said, straightening his back a little. "Not all of them, but usually I catch people off guard enough to get the upper hand." Not that he'd done any of that lately, but he'd kicked dudes who'd done stuff to girls in clubs before, and usually if he wasn't wining it, people would come to his aid.

"Sounds like a plan!" Topher said happily. "I can bring some Belgian beers and chocolate!" At the question of 'just French' they laughed. "Yes, just french," they admitted. "They do get some English is school, but it's very basic, so it depends if a student actually wants to learn that," they explained. "The Flemish are much better at learning French than the Walonians are at Dutch. But mostly of my classmates could speak basic English." For Topher to speak three languages, it didn't feel like a flex anymore. It just made sense. They were sad they'd never gotten to learn German, then they'd have all the Belgian languages.

Nohemi was unfamiliar with the world of competitions. Contemplating it too deeply would send her anxiety into a tailspin. Dipping her toes in first, however, probably wasn’t the best approach either, given her nature. She was a quick learner, and he wouldn't face any difficulty if she absorbed the lessons too rapidly. She smiled at the confirmation—a friend, witchy, yet she allowed it to warm her heart for a little longer. She even offered an affirmation she rarely entrusted to anyone. "I trust you." A significant statement, given that putting her in water could very well pose a threat to her life.

“I hear you though. A slide or at least a diving spot would make this a lot more fun… and easier, not to mention. Flying through the air, and then splashing down – could be epic!”

“Alright,” he said, taking a deep breath and steeling himself. “Let’s do it together. On the count of three?” He held his hand out to Topher, ready to make the plunge.” One… two…”

"Epic and then there is no turning back, not like standing in the water. It's just fighting your body in one instance and throwing yourself forward. We should put in a recommendation for the city council or whatever, tell them this place really needs a slide."

The words still felt sour in her mouth. Death felt all to heavy to deal with, so it was easier to not. This was the first time in...weeks? Months? Since Bea had thought of Merrin. Work was easy to deal with. Death? Philosophers spent their entire lives trying to decode its mysteries, and still no single person was ever close to the truth.

"Would you want something like this?" She asks next. "For your name to be...memorialized in such a way?"

They tried not to think about Merrin that often, though their thoughts did often linger, when they found things around their home to remind them of their friend's Wicca thing, or when they thought of jokes that had been Merrin's to first throw out into the world.

Yet, talking about death while looking at a memorial of the dead, was definitely something that reminded them of Merrin, who wouldn't run away from this type of thing. They looked at Beatrice for a moment and wondered: how had they both ended up befriending that weirdo.

"Definitely not," they said. "I'd want my friends to remember me in their own way, not be part of the horrifying history of this city," they admitted. "You?"

"But yeah," she nods, her tone brightening. "Since you're like the best teacher and all, I'd love to learn." The prospect of learning to swim feels suddenly vital, as though it’s not just a skill but a lifeline, a necessary preparation for navigating the turbulent currents of life. "You just have to promise me that I won't melt or sink." The sincerity in her eyes is matched by a gentle determination, the kind that comes from a lifetime of facing fears head-on.

They chuckled. "I'm the best teacher," he agreed, "certified." At least they got the little paper they needed to be teaching kids how to swim and to save them. Very important. And they took their job very seriously, kids who could swim and felt confident in being able to do this one thing would go far. He loved hyping up the youngsters. "That should be easy enough, my witchy friend," he said - in joke - and nudged Nohemi's shoulder gently. "I'll have you competition ready in no-time, maybe even in time for them to finally finish whatever they're doing on the lakeside."

"Actually, I've taken to a couple of non-alcoholic beverages," he repeats, more to himself than anyone else, a small reminder of the path he has chosen. The words are his anchor, grounding him in the present, amidst the swirling chaos. His concern for others, however, remains undiminished. "You're okay, though, right? Not drinking too much? Should we get you some water to help dilute the veins?"

They narrowed their eyes at the other. "So beer? Or fancy mocktails?" they asked, wiggling their eyebrows as if they were in fact drunk off of several alcoholic beverages, and not just drunk on the night. "I'm okay, I can handle this amount," they assured the other who was clearly attempting to be parent-like in the situation, not something Topher tended to take well to, and certainly not something they'd had for a long long time. "They say cola works much better against hang-overs than water, though."

It didn't seem enough to assuage the sadness she heard in their voice. "I'd always come back to visit you if things did change, you're like my first real friend, and I'd drag you places. I mean, if Micah ever actually gets famous I'd have to take you somewhere fun too. Maybe Greece?" she suggested, swallowing her worried tone that her friend felt abandoned. "Greecian hotties, that's what you deserve."

Sofia laughed at his insistence that he could defend himself. Size was definitely not an issue in her mind, she could kick some arse and she was only just slightly over five feet tall. If Topher said he could take someone on she'd believe him. "If you got hurt though I'd have to nurse you back to health," she gave them a small wink. "You're probably amazing for lots of reasons and if you're a dick then they probably deserve it."

They attempted to sound more excited than they felt about Greecian hotties, their smile forced but light as well. They weren't that good at lying, their poker face was more because they didn't know how to feel about things than actually knowing how to hide their emotions. They now felt like they were at least being truthful to Sofia that it hurt them. "Greece sounds fun, I'd also like to go to Italy."

He grinned. "That's a deal, I'd like to be nursed back to health," he said in return, it sounded flirtatious but he meant well. He hoped she knew he meant well. "Oh they always do deserve it, I don't ever kick anyone without good cause." Which was true, all the fights he'd gotten into when he lived back in Belgium was always with the bullies, protecting some kid who didn't know how to protect themself.

It was slightly strange  — to live with another person, again. To share her space with someone else. The last time she shared breakfast with anyone in the comfort of her home, was a few years back, when she was part of a coven, and her fellow sisters, as she called them, spent the night.

She handed the other a hot cup of coffee, a warm smile on her lips, "Did you sleep well?"

Her other hand was busy with a glass of water, she used to water the plants on the living room window. Warm reys of light caressing green leaves. She loved taking caring of living things, whether those were people, plants or animals, or even their home.

They stretched out as a cat as they got out of the bathroom, wearing a baggy shirt and joggers. Their hair was wild, bound on the top of their head with two knots.

They accepted the bean water with a grin. "Thank you, and yes!" they said, stressing the last word.

The human took a seat, they weren't good with most living things, had never owned a houseplant, and neither a pet, though they'd taken in plenty of animals to nurse back to health with the help of their mother. "What about you?"

Dressed in a pair of red swim shorts that reached his knees, he stepped into the water, wading carefully to avoid creating too many waves around the other people. He only looked up when Topher spoke.

“It kind of is, isn’t it?” he agreed, though he hadn’t been too bothered by the cold water yet. He was only up to his knees, after all. “Just gotta grit your teeth and plunge in,” he encouraged Topher. “Or, you know, do the thing where you splash water on your arms and stomach before going further.” Demonstrating, he dipped his hands in the cold water and brought them up to his arms and chest, shivering. “Or, you know, not. It’s really cold.” He laughed lightly, feeling goosebumps rise on his arms from the chilly water.