laurentnick

[laurentnick]

Something will always bring him back right to where he started. Call it a gravitational pull or fate testing the limits of time and space. Call it what you want, but Nick will always end up here. With Nora. Emotionally invested in the most silent way, hunting for emotion and intimacy that’s now come and gone. Foolish, really. Especially to think that this life once belonged to him. Married, a future. Despite the strange memories from a life unknown to him lingering in the back of his mind. 

Though he knew this one. He knew her.

“Sure,” Nick says, “I’ll never say no to free food, you know this.” The businessman reaches a hand in, grabbing a scone for himself. It’s very like Nora to share, to give back. Both because she wanted to and because she’d rather not eat a stale scone come morning. The thought makes him laugh a little before speaking once more, “How’re things at the hospital? I hope you’re making time to cook yourself some meals instead of ordering out all the time.” He says teasingly, smiling warmly. Nick means to ask about the children she often fosters from time to time, none of which obviously being long term. Though something always stops him. It’s as if he hits a wall.

time : 8:30 a.m. location : outside the olive branch status : open @pomreblogs​

     “want one?” she asked holding up a take-out box of scones. although she wasn’t part of the academy, she couldn’t deny the appeal of the coffee shop and their seriously delicious scones. “i got talked into buying a dozen for some deal they were doing, and i seriously can’t eat anymore of them.” one look into the box would show that a quarter of the dozen were already gone, and nora was a bit of a scone snob. she couldn’t handle eating leftover, semi-stale bakery items the next day. “i can’t eat all of them myself,” she added, a small smile on her face.

[laurentnick]

“My job is to check up on your business, ma’am, make sure everything is running smoothly.” Is what Nick says into the phone, calm and collected. Though there’s redness to his face and neck, a wave of anger as if he’s filled to the brim with enough irritation to pop like a balloon.

The conversation lulls, earning Nick to remove his cellphone from his ear for a moment, his eyes rolling. Something about this woman’s books wasn’t adding up. Money was missing. Not that he’s shocked. The older man has had a good amount of run-ins with various schemes that people believed he’d turn a blind eye to. No, never. Not when you’re someone like Nick Laurent with a taste for power and control. Even in the smallest amounts.

Finally, the conversation ends with a scheduled meeting in the future. Next Thursday. He’s certain they’ll prepare and he’ll do just the same. A voice breaks through the noise then and Nick is putting his phone back into his briefcase, blue eyes averting to the source. A sudden sense of deja-vu washes over him at the side of the person before him, speaking on bushes and shrubs. Most likely an act of teen rebellion. 

Nick furrows his brow, “I don’t think it looks too bad,” Nick says with a shrug, eyeing the scene before him. “What are you gonna do? Time’s wasting. You have to make a decision now before everyone sees it and decides it adds to the barely-there charm of this place.”

STARTER : open. @pomreblogs​​ LOCATION : indeterminant; near local businesses

Shrubbery vandalized into vulgar silhouettes;  this is how their morning was shaping up,  ( for lack of better term ). Aiden seemed almost impressed with its anonymous creators’ detailed eye — were it not acting as … suggestive fence between storefronts and neighboring homes. Still,  this proved no mayoral job. Hardly even rousing enough that a council would heed to it. And if someone were arguing its contrary,    “   I see three options moving forward :  don’t stare too long,  learn to live with them,  or the culprit left their shears in plain view as more than a half - brained ditch of the offending weapon.  ” 

Any guess which they favored? 

[laurentnick]

Perhaps it was pointless to say, but Nick didn’t bode well with outward emotion. He stands there, dumbfounded, his body a useless thing. Though he’s dressed to the nines, pristine and handsome, just as her. Despite the cluelessness that clutters his mind, Nick still grabs the moment and makes it his own. He’ll be damned before he admits even the smallest defeat. 

You don’t win this round, universe. 

“We may need to find you a hobby, dear Prue,” The brunette says, all in good humor, though a tad patronizing. He always had a certain way about him. Something that oozed charm but not complete sincerity. He may mean well, but his execution was relatively flawed. “Who are you afraid won’t call back? They’d be ridiculous not to, though I think your anxieties should lie elsewhere. Why don’t we attempt to focus on some positives?” There you go, Nick. A nudge in the right direction. 

starter ; @pomreblogs​ location ; a park somewhere in town

gods ! — five years since she’s been in this godforsaken town, and still, she is un-used to the lack of guaranteed allure. no, she is still breathtaking, but the magic is as good as dead, cold, six feet under. doused in a morose cloak, as much as she has been since her initial arrival in elysium, her face buried under her hands. no, she is not afraid of the power of emotion, though she’s never quite gotten used to the sadness.

❛ oh my gods ! ❜  a wail, underpinned by a relentless melancholy.  ❛ what if they don’t call back ? am i really that awful - looking now ? ❜  a public park bench as her stage ; at least she is pretty when she cries.

[laurentnick]

HELLO ONCE AGAIN. it’s ya girl, bucky, back at you with another character. as always, i’m avalible for plots either here or on discord! my username is airy and cheesy#1149.

Nicholas “Nick” Laurent, 40 years old, Businessman and teacher at Athens. Cronus, Titan God of Time.

Full name is Nicholas Elijah Laurent.

He was Cronus, the titan god of time.

Also the ex-husband of Rhea aka Nora King. He’s still in love with her and miserable without her, but his uncertainty within wanting children was the thing to throw a wrench in their marriage.

A stubborn, old, time-fearing academic. He loves books, learning, and questions about the universe.

Though he craves power and control more than anything. He fears running out of time and being overthrown. The idea of aging also spooks him. Because of this, he can be hard to navigate and it can make him a very controlling man.

He thinks he’s the shit outwardly, but deep down he’s lonely and more often than not takes it out on himself and his mind.

Though he can be generous and understanding, especially during serious situations. But also because he loves taking control of serious situations. 

Nick’s form of torture is the ticking of a clock, as strange as that is. It resides in his kitchen and there’s also one in his classroom. The clocks tick and tick and tick, signaling the hours and minutes moving forward, which earns his anxiety to skyrocket. It’s a small thing but is enough to make Nick spiral.

His other form of torture and his own personal brand of Hell is being surrounded by people more powerful than him. While Nick is a pretty superior man, he’s often surrounded by people who could easily take his place. In this realm, he’s replaceable and disposable. 

[laurentnick]

The game. It’s from May 1941. I know, ‘cause I was there.