jeb-ayy-brams-blog

[jeb-ayy-brams-blog]

scarsandscones‌:

“I woke up outside of town, too,” Bailey muttered, slowly moving around the place in search of a clue– any clue that might explain their predicament. He shrugged at Jeb’s question, not really having an answer for him. “This doesn’t look like Sweet Cheeks.” He flapped a frustrated hand, gesturing dismissively. “I mean, it does, but it hasn’t looked like this in almost a year. Where’s the wall I put up?” He pointed at said wall, expression bewildered. “I took seven bullets out of that thing. It took me weeks.”

Releasing a deep sigh, Bailey made his way for the door, and paused to grab Jeb by the collar before pulling him along. “Come on, let’s find someone. This is freaking me out.”

Jeb peered at the wall that Bailey was pointing at, his own eyes narrowing, just as confused as he was. The whole town seemed weird. While it was a seemingly quiet town normally, something made it seem so much more eerily quiet than usual. He despised cops, but they usually circled around the place, and he hadn’t seen one of them yet.

He was deep in thought before the man yanked him out the door, causing him to pull away from him as soon as he left. “What if the apocalypse happened, and we’re the only ones left?” he muttered, “Or, like, a nuclear war happened, and somehow we’re the only ones that are immune to the radiation?” 

[jeb-ayy-brams-blog]

scarsandscones‌:

Bailey raised a brow at Jeb, shooting him an unimpressed look before continuing to examine the bakery. “Do I look like Mary Poppins to you?” He gestured to his bloody orange jumpsuit, where RAPIDS COUNTY CORRECTIONAL FACILITY was emblazoned across his back. His expression fell at the mention of Lily and Jack, the concern he’d been trying to ignore swelling right back up again.

“I haven’t seen them.” While he wished he could, the alternative seemed much bleaker. “Did you wake up somewhere weird?” Bailey had an inkling as to what might have happened, but it seemed improbable and highly unlikely. “I don’t think this is Sweet Cheeks.”

“Well I don’t know,” he scowled, “Everything about the past 20 minutes or so has been weird.” Apart from when he was in jail, Jeb had never been apart from his brother, and not knowing where he was put him on edge. Hell, he didn’t like not knowing out of fear that he was going to get himself into trouble and get himself sent back to jail.

“Yeah, I woke up in the grass area, like, 5 minutes outside the town,” Jeb nodded slowly, eyeing Bailey suspiciously, “What the fuck do you mean, bruv? What other bakeries are in Muddy Waters?”

[jeb-ayy-brams-blog]

scarsandscones‌:

Bailey looked stunned when he recognized Jeb, blinking rapidly as if he expected the kid to disappear. He looked around the bakery and through the windows, disheartened to find themselves alone. He suspected he must’ve done something unforgivable to be stuck in an empty town with only Jeb, distantly wondering if there was any liquor in this place.

“Where is everyone?” Bailey asked, hoping that the kid had spotted someone before he did. “It’s not just us, right?” He ventured back into the kitchen, peering around the strange place. The entire bakery was still the same– before he’d renovated it, as if time had turned backwards. “Where’s your kid?” Where was Bailey’s kid?

“I dunno,” he muttered, watching as Bailey ran around the place to look for others. The town seemed rather abandoned to him, and the bakery seemed just as quiet other than them. “I dunno,” Jeb repeated, looking down, “I haven’t found him yet.” 

He wasn’t really sure what was going on other than that he’d died and that Bailey must have too. The whole thing was confusing him, and his only response to things that confused him was to ask questions. “What happened to you?” he asked, “Where did you wake up? Or did you, like, float down or do something else magical? What about Lily? Jack? Anyone? I can’t find Remy, or anyone else.”

[jeb-ayy-brams-blog]

Jeb found himself waking up in a park, blood dried down the side of his face. It was a place that he knew, but something seemed off - other than the obvious bloodied shirt and head. He was alone; something that he rarely wanted to be.

Where was Teddy? Where was his brother? His grandmother? Teddy?

Those were the first thoughts that were running through his head as he started to search the immediate area for any sign of them, but to no avail. He began to walk towards the town he’d grown up in for the last 5 years or so, and he found himself starting to get upset, panicking as he realised that no one seemed to be around - even if, ultimately, he knew it was a good thing that they weren’t there. He walked towards the main street, looking up and down, his eyes falling on the bakery that he found himself in so frequently; Sweet Cheeks.

Jebediah pushed open the door, but the inside was empty too. He let out a shaky sigh, about to get upset again before he heard the door fling open, never being as happy to see the man who walked through it as he did now. “Congratulations,” he blurted out, a small smile on his face, only really able to face any kind of negative emotion with humour.

When Bailey woke up bloody but unharmed, he didn’t think much of it. At least, until he noticed the orange prison jumpsuit and the eerily empty dining hall he found himself in. His surroundings were familiar, of course, they had been his home for ten years; but it was a place he thought he had left behind, an assumption he didn’t realize was incorrect until now. 

When he walked back into town– an anomaly, because the prison he’d been sequestered in had been several miles away– he found himself hoping to find it abandoned. An eternity spent alone in a wasteland seemed the perfect punishment, one he hoped that Jack had escaped.

Bailey realized he was wrong, again, when he spotted someone through the window of Sweet Cheeks. Brows furrowed, he burst through the door with a harried look about him. “Are we the only ones here?”

[jeb-ayy-brams-blog]

browniesnbruises‌:

Bailey considered the suggestion and shrugged noncommittally. “It’d be easier if you sold tea at the bakery.” It made more sense than putting up a poster directing people to the Rise and Grind. He glanced down at the small booth Jeb had set up, and pointed to the tea bags. “How many kinds do you have?” It was the only question that mattered to him; he barely knew anything about going into a partnership, which was probably why Jack should’ve been there with him. 

Jeb looked at Bailey for a few seconds without saying anything. “You mean you’d like to have me in Sweet Cheeks all day, everyday?” he said, not waiting for a response, a smirk growing on his face, “Wow, bruv. Never thought I’d live to see the day.” He shrugged, “It’s tea. None of that healthy shit, if that’s what you mean. Just tea.”

[jeb-ayy-brams-blog]

browniesnbruises‌:

“No idea,” Bailey said, looking entirely unaffected by Jeb’s speech. He certainly couldn’t provide any advice, especially when his own business was the product of gang restitution (and, occasionally, getting beat up). “I’m just saying your chances of selling tea would be higher if most of these people weren’t looking for coffee. You should try the library or that crafts store. Don’t bookworms and little old ladies love that shit?” 

“This is the problem with this town,” he grunted, not even acknowledging Bailey’s suggestion, “They want to stick with what they know. I’m trying to bring fresh business in here and they reject it.” He let out a sigh, crossing his arms for a moment and then came up with another idea. “We should work in a partnership,” Jeb said quickly, “You know, you advertise my shop and I advertise yours.”

[jeb-ayy-brams-blog]

julian-bolanos‌:

Julian nodded slowly, unsure why Jeb was reminding him of this fact when enforcing the law was exactly what he was in the middle of trying to accomplish. Then again, following the rules seemed to be a concept that was lost on most of the town’s people. “Seems like you’d be more interested in reaching a compromise, seeing as you don’t have much of a leg to stand on here.” He gestured towards the truck behind him. 

He hesitated when Jeb went about making the tea, not having expected him to actually follow through on the offer. “Surprise me. I’m more of a coffee guy honestly.” He admitted with a small smile.

“I think I’m doing fine, thanks,” he scowled, surprisingly sensitive about his little business - or whatever his van represented. It was his second ‘business’ in the past six-ish months, but he was determined to make it work.

Jeb continued to grin, ripping open two packets of sugar that he’d stolen from the Rise and Grind only a few days before. He made Julian up his cup of tea before handing it over, eagerly awaiting his reaction.

[jeb-ayy-brams-blog]

julian-bolanos‌:

Julian heaved a sigh of frustration when Jeb tried to argue the parking situation with him. “You know I don’t make the rules, right?” He stepped closer, reaching for the pad of paper in his pocket. “Do you have a business license?” He asked, retrieving a pen also and flipping open the pad. 

He looked up when Jeb refused to move and offered him a cup of tea instead, Julian desperate to know why no one in this town ever wanted to cooperate even when the decks were stacked against them. “Sure. I guess I’ll trade you this parking ticket for a cup of tea.” He offered, leaning against the side of the truck.

“You don’t make the rules, but you enforce them,” he explained, as if it was obvious, “And no, I don’t. Those probably cost money, which I don’t have. Kind of in a catch-22 situation, you know what I mean?” Jeb wasn’t even bullshitting that point - he didn’t have the money. He didn’t even think to buy one until his brother brought it up after he bought the van.

Jebediah smirked, grabbing the kettle and pouring a bottle of water into it, flicking it on before grabbing a cup. “How many sugars?” he asked, his eyebrow raised at Julian. He took a copious amount of the stuff, but he knew that everyone had their own preferences.

[jeb-ayy-brams-blog]

nando-vos‌:

“I can’t tell if you’re threatening the cafe with an attack by a toddler or … well, I have no idea what else. And yes, cutting the line is very rude.” He spared the other man a look. “I think we can all agree that there’s a certain amount of rudeness going around today, hm?” He stopped the child from running into another chair without really looking. Dear God, his life had become some sort of telenovela with everyone reacting as if they’d just been told they were the child of the gamekeeper. Stepping in between the two, Nando lifted the dessert up and apart from either of them, put it on a chair, and indicated that the rude kid should have at it. He threw a bill at the rude man. “For your trouble. Now please fuck off.” Gesturing towards the door, he shook his head. “Great example to set for the kid.”

Jebediah watched the man settle the argument. He was rather grateful, to be honest, since not only did he didn’t like to fight anyone, but he was also wanting to start to stand up for himself. He was about to say thank you to him until he had to say his final comment, which got to him. “Excuse me?” he said, now squaring up to the man that had just helped him out, “My son is fine, thank you, he knows how to deal with people without being a pushover. Somethin’ his dad never learned until recently.”

[jeb-ayy-brams-blog]

julian-bolanos‌:

“You’re blocking their curbside parking.” Julian gestured to the limited parking in the tiny gravel lot beside the building. There were plenty of less busy shops close by that people could utilize for parking but that didn’t dismiss the coffee shop’s concerns about having direct competition parked outside their front doors.

He breathed a sigh as Jeb offered his explanation, willing to acknowledge that the other had a point even if it was unlikely to mean anything to anyone sitting behind a desk. “Look, why don’t you just park down the street? I doubt that guy from the tattoo shop is gonna care. And hipsters, right? I’m sure they like… scones.” 

“Technically, I’m parked here, so I ain’t blocking anything, bruv,” he shot back, a quick quirk of his eyebrow challenging him to respond. Over the course of his life, his mouth had gotten him into a lot of trouble, but it had also gotten him out of it. He was hoping this would lead to the latter, but he wasn’t completely confident in it.

“Competition is healthy,” he argued, “This town has had to deal with one coffee shop for too long. It’s not my fault that they feel threatened by me and my van. I’m not moving.” Jeb paused for a moment. “Now, would you like a cup of tea?” he said calmly, hoping the change in direction of the conversation would help. It always calmed his grandma down, so he was thinking it could make Julian switch sides.

[jeb-ayy-brams-blog]

julian-bolanos‌:

Julian had come to realize that he’d been an idiot for assuming that a small town would have less ridiculous calls just because there were less people. He’d assumed that because everyone knew each other they’d somehow be better at regulating themselves, that personal accountability would factor in more. This had all turned out to be wildly incorrect.

He pulled up in front of the Rise & Grind and parked by the curb, stepping out of the car to investigate the town’s latest unregistered ‘small business’ operation. 

“You knew this was gonna be a problem, right?” He really hoped this was just another elaborate yet meaningless prank on the owner of the Rise & Grind, the conflict of interests in a town with limited clientele seeming too obvious to miss. 

Jeb wasn’t phased in the slightest when he saw the police car pull up to his food truck, but he did cross his arms across his chest when Julian popped out and approached him. Of course he knew that it was going to be a problem - it just didn’t stop him doing it.

“How is it a problem?” he responded confidently, “I’m not blocking the entrance to their shop. I’m certainly not hurting anyone.” Jeb paused for a second, leaning over the counter towards the man, “But do you know what is hurting a lot of people? The business and lack of jobs in this town. I’m out here trying to stay out of trouble and you’re hurting my business.”

[jeb-ayy-brams-blog]

browniesnbruises‌:

Bailey looked down at the plate of baked beans with a dubious look, before plucking the rest of it up and shoving it into his mouth. He shrugged as he chewed, mumbling “It’s okay,” around the mouthful. Though he wasn’t a foodie by any means, and he would’ve said the same about an eight-ounce steak.

Glancing at the windows behind Jeb, Bailey motioned to the person glaring at them from behind the counter inside. “No, I’m pretty sure it’s not an actual place. Do you have a permit for this? They’re going to kick you out.” He wasn’t necessarily concerned with whether Jeb had the correct papers or not, though he figured it was his duty as a former (and current) delinquent to let the kid know. “You should probably pick a place with less competition.”

“Fuck you, man,” he groaned, continuing to scowl at the man, “You insult my cuisine and then you eat the rest of it? Disgrace.” Jeb had been practically raised on baked beans on toast for the first 4 or 5 years of his life. His mum could never really be bothered to make him or his brother much more, and although his brother now can’t stand it, he loved it.

“Isn’t this the United States of America?” Jebediah challenged, “Land of the free n’ all that? Capitalism? The American Dream?” He let out a dramatic sigh, as if he’d been preparing for this speech all day, “How’s a man meant to start a business without doing something a little illegal?”

[jeb-ayy-brams-blog]

browniesnbruises‌:

Bailey approached the booth with wary curiosity, watching Jeb yell at various passerby with an abysmal amount of success. He wasn’t sure what the kid was selling, but he figured it was some bastardized version of a lemonade stand. “What kind of flavor is beans and toast? Who would want to drink that?” Then again, he didn’t know much about tea, nor did he consume it. Hot leaf water had never appealed to him.

Glancing up at the sign above the Rise and Grind, he shot Jeb’s booth a dubious look. “And don’t you think you’d have more luck if you’re not competing against an actual place that sells tea?”

“It’s nice. Try it,” he challenged, scowling as he took out a plate with a half-eaten baked beans on toast from under the counter. He’d been nibbling at it for a couple of minutes, but every time a customer walked past, he quickly shoved it back under, not wanting to seem ‘unprofessional’ - whatever that meant. “And lots of people. No one here knows what a proper tea tastes like.”

“No, because that’s not good tea,” Jeb replied, crossing his arms, “And I’m taking a stand against it. This is an actual place, bruv. Just not a big place, but that doesn’t mean it’s not an actual place.”

[jeb-ayy-brams-blog]

nando-vos‌:

There was a child running around the store, and Nando dodged him a few times, wondering if there was some sort of daycare or playground nearby where that might be more appropriate. He rarely if ever interacted with children, considering his job, so he just raised an eyebrow and said nothing. Maybe this was normal. The kid’s father, or possible babysitter, or older brother, was surly and rude, but he was a kid as well, so that was hardly surprising. “You’re kinda making it my business.” Putting out a hand without looking, he stopped the little kid from running into a chair. “Maybe be the bigger man here and let it go, hey?”

“I’ve been waiting here for twenty minutes,” Jeb shot back, glaring at both the man he was talking to and the man who was trying to steal his donuts, “That guy walked in five minutes ago. I have a kid that will be getting into a lot more trouble than just running around if I need to wait much longer. I’m not going to let it go.” He usually preferred to let things go, and would actively avoid confrontation, but he wasn’t in the mood to be messed with. Besides, he thought it was rude that the man would think he could jump the queue after only being there for five minutes.

[jeb-ayy-brams-blog]

Christmas was coming up too quickly for Jeb and he knew that he needed to do something. Fast.

He’d been unemployed for a little over a month now, and despite living at his grandma’s house for the past 3 weeks he’d very quickly run out of what little reserves he had. While most people would look for another job, Jeb wasn’t most people. He got very bored very quickly and would end up doing things he regretted when he was bored - such as rearranging most of the stock in the EZpump just to watch the citizens of Muddy Waters get frustrated as they searched the store for what they needed, which was what got him fired in the first place.

So, his solution was to create a pop-up shop that only sold British food right outside the Rise and Grind, specialising in tea. He’d spent the last of his savings on the equipment he needed, so he was praying that it worked.

“Oi, you want a cuppa tea for $1.50?” Jeb shouted across at the person on the other side of the street, “Beans on toast? Somethin’ else?”

[jeb-ayy-brams-blog]

For the first time in more than two weeks, Jeb had finally got the opportunity to see his son. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see him, in fact it was the complete opposite. He and his girlfriend had been going through probably their roughest breakup yet, and she had been keeping him for the entire time. He knew that his first stop with Teddy would be Sweet Cheeks, and so that was where he was.

Unfortunately, someone else had ordered the same thing as he had, and they were claiming that it was theirs, despite the fact that he’d been waiting a lot longer than what they had. Teddy was happy enough, literally running up and down the bakery to entertain himself, but Jeb was far from it, and although he would’ve let it go any other day, it wasn’t any other day. “What the fuck is it to you?” Jebediah snapped, too far gone to even care about the gun. He now carried one too, and, as far as he was concerned, so did the majority of the town.

Nando viewed most things in his life as transitory, or at the very least replaceable. He could buy new clothes, a new car, a new house, a new life, if required. He’d done it at least once before. He tried to be Buddhist about the whole thing and not cling to material things. But it still bothered him to see people damaging property unnecessarily. There was nothing wrong with appreciating something, as long as you weren’t bound to it. That’s why he liked his current job, babysitting his best friend with former benefits’ quasi-boyfriend/pet. The art on the walls were nice, Etch-a-Sketch (he refused to refer to Atreus by his supposed real name), his boss/babysitting gig wasn’t hard on the eyes, and people tended to leave the place more aesthetically pleasing than when they came in.

Having gone out for coffee and donuts, he was currently watching the townsfolk arguing over some sort of baked good at Sweet Cheeks, wondering why everyone was so materially-challenged in this town. Maybe that’s what floods did to you. Made it harder to give things up. Leaning against the door frame, he whistled, breaking up the fight as they both noted he wasn’t even trying to hide that he had a gun on his hip. “Hate to interrupt.”

[jeb-ayy-brams-blog]