wouldn't put my money on me
POSTED ON Jul 18, 2024 12:04:03 GMT -5
Post by Luck Harris on Jul 18, 2024 12:04:03 GMT -5
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Alternate Universe/Past
~ "Mr. Brightside" Edition ~
[break]Just an AU where we can throw characters together at a different time, under different circumstances, and see how they might have played off one another if things had aligned a little differently! c: Because I like playing around with past/younger versions of characters who've had a lot of growth. And it could be fun to explore that question, "What if I'd met you XX years ago?" [break][break]
If you're interested, feel free to incorporate your character however you'd like with whatever changes you'd like to make to them! What if That™ event didn't happen to them? What if they had a different Gift? A different family? Or maybe you just want to play a mostly-canon, younger version of them? Ya man, do whatever! [break][break]
Note: Luck is currently 22 years old. The events in this starting post are canon for him (the AU begins when someone else shows up lmao). This one has a setting but don't worry about making it "make sense" for your character to be there (unless you want to, of course!) All fun, all AU. Do what you'd like! This was borne from me considering someone asking him, "What's the worst thing you've ever done drunk?" And coming up with the answer that Luck slept with a friend's girlfriend. As it has been his whole life, and how it continues to be for a little while longer, he is unable to control his empathy and isn't even aware that it's a thing unique to him.
If you're interested, feel free to incorporate your character however you'd like with whatever changes you'd like to make to them! What if That™ event didn't happen to them? What if they had a different Gift? A different family? Or maybe you just want to play a mostly-canon, younger version of them? Ya man, do whatever! [break][break]
Note: Luck is currently 22 years old. The events in this starting post are canon for him (the AU begins when someone else shows up lmao). This one has a setting but don't worry about making it "make sense" for your character to be there (unless you want to, of course!) All fun, all AU. Do what you'd like! This was borne from me considering someone asking him, "What's the worst thing you've ever done drunk?" And coming up with the answer that Luck slept with a friend's girlfriend. As it has been his whole life, and how it continues to be for a little while longer, he is unable to control his empathy and isn't even aware that it's a thing unique to him.
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Though it isn't far different from any other town Luck's broken down in, Sandy Valley has been good to him. He's been here only a month, but the time has been abundantly full. He found good work quick. Made a handful of friends from fun coworkers (one of which was gracious enough to lend him his couch for the past couple weeks). And he could barely remember his weekends.[break][break]
Saturday morning, though... when he cracks open his bloodshot eyes and groans... he remembers just enough. He makes himself scarce early, leaving before anyone else wakes. And as he spends his morning and afternoon, fighting off a headache as he toils over his engine bay and counts down the hours until it's acceptable to hit the bar, he tries to forget. Or... at least... tries to find some leniency (for himself) in the circumstances.[break][break]
She had been the one to tiptoe across the dark living room and crawl onto the couch. He'd been asleep (or close enough to). Drunk and asleep. It wasn't his fault. What was he expected to do?[break][break]
Apparently, Justin's girlfriend grew a guilty conscience in record time — it's hardly 8pm when Justin finds him in the bar and, without a single word, punches him from his stool. Luck hits the ground hard, whiskey sloshed across the floor beneath him. He can't hear Justin's spitting accusations... at first, because of the dull ring in his skull. Then because he's too busy thinking abruptly of home and seventeen. [break][break]
(Within the year — when he learns about Gifts and can begin to name the constant, sharp unsettlement always coiled within him — he will attempt to justify the whole thing as him feeding off the emotions of Justin's girlfriend that night; mirroring his friend's hatred the next. He will try to excuse his behavior. Another couple years down the line — when he's a little more mature and honest with himself — he will understand and know... he should have just taken the punch.) [break][break]
But he is twenty-two. Young, stupid, and (once again) drunk. Drowning in Justin's raw fury with nothing else to latch onto — nothing that is his own — besides the familiarity of knuckles cracked hard across his jaw. Luck retaliates and the boys pummel at each other, breathing hard and slinging blows, until they're thrown on their backs in parking lot gravel and someone threatens to call the police. [break][break]
Justin gets his feet under him first and Luck can feel exhaustion leeching the anger from him in a slow drain; he can feel the hurt, betrayal, and pity that seeps into its vacancy as the other man stares down at him. Justin's voice has lost its heat as he tells him off. Names all the things he's done for him through a sad, bloody-lipped scowl while his shoulders heave with heavy, labored breaths. [break][break]
And Luck doesn't care. Cut ties. Friendships and relationships dropped to the cutting room floor at a moment's notice. That's the whole game he's been playing since he left home. It was time to move on, that was all. To find somewhere else to break down in and different people to know, until something like this sent him running again.[break][break]
But this time, it's not a simple matter of saving up money for his gas tank. His truck needs work. The type he still needs to make a lot more cash for. But he's used to work, has never had trouble finding it, and he has another job by week's end. Has traded his "lawn work" t-shirt for a "concrete work" t-shirt, in a new color and with a new boss' phone number printed on the back. The only matter now, is a new place to stay. His truck cab has gotten him by for the week but it won't do for much longer. [break][break]
After work one afternoon — sweaty and grimy, stinking like hot sun and skin chalked with concrete dust — he slips into the town's Post Office to tack up one of the few flyers he's had photocopied. It's a routine announcement by this point — the hand-written words on the page are tested and to-the-point, proven sufficient enough by the dozen other towns he's posted them in over the last few years:
Tag: Ask! [break]
Notes: Lol, so... I had inspiration... but the brain isn't working. So this is a huge mess lmaooo. Still posting anyway b/c YOLO and something is something. I'll get to regular tenses and what-not with the next one, sorry this whole post is wonky-weird sdkjfhsdkjf~ [break][break]
Feel free to time-skip, too. Could be much later when your character sees the posting, or they could come across Luck (without seeing the posting) in a bar or on the job (maybe he's laying new concrete and your character, on their phone and not looking, is about to walk on it??) or something. Maybe he's crossing the street and you almost hit him in your car! Maybe y'all are in a grocery store and smth happens! I'm good with anything!
"If you need me you can find me, slightly outta control. Cause highway boys don't rest and don't hang hats till they're home. So if you need me, call. Just know that highway boys don't stick around at all."
Though it isn't far different from any other town Luck's broken down in, Sandy Valley has been good to him. He's been here only a month, but the time has been abundantly full. He found good work quick. Made a handful of friends from fun coworkers (one of which was gracious enough to lend him his couch for the past couple weeks). And he could barely remember his weekends.[break][break]
Saturday morning, though... when he cracks open his bloodshot eyes and groans... he remembers just enough. He makes himself scarce early, leaving before anyone else wakes. And as he spends his morning and afternoon, fighting off a headache as he toils over his engine bay and counts down the hours until it's acceptable to hit the bar, he tries to forget. Or... at least... tries to find some leniency (for himself) in the circumstances.[break][break]
She had been the one to tiptoe across the dark living room and crawl onto the couch. He'd been asleep (or close enough to). Drunk and asleep. It wasn't his fault. What was he expected to do?[break][break]
Apparently, Justin's girlfriend grew a guilty conscience in record time — it's hardly 8pm when Justin finds him in the bar and, without a single word, punches him from his stool. Luck hits the ground hard, whiskey sloshed across the floor beneath him. He can't hear Justin's spitting accusations... at first, because of the dull ring in his skull. Then because he's too busy thinking abruptly of home and seventeen. [break][break]
(Within the year — when he learns about Gifts and can begin to name the constant, sharp unsettlement always coiled within him — he will attempt to justify the whole thing as him feeding off the emotions of Justin's girlfriend that night; mirroring his friend's hatred the next. He will try to excuse his behavior. Another couple years down the line — when he's a little more mature and honest with himself — he will understand and know... he should have just taken the punch.) [break][break]
But he is twenty-two. Young, stupid, and (once again) drunk. Drowning in Justin's raw fury with nothing else to latch onto — nothing that is his own — besides the familiarity of knuckles cracked hard across his jaw. Luck retaliates and the boys pummel at each other, breathing hard and slinging blows, until they're thrown on their backs in parking lot gravel and someone threatens to call the police. [break][break]
Justin gets his feet under him first and Luck can feel exhaustion leeching the anger from him in a slow drain; he can feel the hurt, betrayal, and pity that seeps into its vacancy as the other man stares down at him. Justin's voice has lost its heat as he tells him off. Names all the things he's done for him through a sad, bloody-lipped scowl while his shoulders heave with heavy, labored breaths. [break][break]
And Luck doesn't care. Cut ties. Friendships and relationships dropped to the cutting room floor at a moment's notice. That's the whole game he's been playing since he left home. It was time to move on, that was all. To find somewhere else to break down in and different people to know, until something like this sent him running again.[break][break]
But this time, it's not a simple matter of saving up money for his gas tank. His truck needs work. The type he still needs to make a lot more cash for. But he's used to work, has never had trouble finding it, and he has another job by week's end. Has traded his "lawn work" t-shirt for a "concrete work" t-shirt, in a new color and with a new boss' phone number printed on the back. The only matter now, is a new place to stay. His truck cab has gotten him by for the week but it won't do for much longer. [break][break]
After work one afternoon — sweaty and grimy, stinking like hot sun and skin chalked with concrete dust — he slips into the town's Post Office to tack up one of the few flyers he's had photocopied. It's a routine announcement by this point — the hand-written words on the page are tested and to-the-point, proven sufficient enough by the dozen other towns he's posted them in over the last few years:
"Looking for room. [break]
Will pay in-cash weekly.[break]
Call with questions."
Tag: Ask! [break]
Notes: Lol, so... I had inspiration... but the brain isn't working. So this is a huge mess lmaooo. Still posting anyway b/c YOLO and something is something. I'll get to regular tenses and what-not with the next one, sorry this whole post is wonky-weird sdkjfhsdkjf~ [break][break]
Feel free to time-skip, too. Could be much later when your character sees the posting, or they could come across Luck (without seeing the posting) in a bar or on the job (maybe he's laying new concrete and your character, on their phone and not looking, is about to walk on it??) or something. Maybe he's crossing the street and you almost hit him in your car! Maybe y'all are in a grocery store and smth happens! I'm good with anything!
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[newclass=.frosttalon-au b]color:#3C584D;[/newclass]