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[ofhoneyblood]

☙ UNDERTAKERXSONNY.​

Sonny felt as thought he had rung in the new year with the knell of a funeral chime. Much to his mother’s chagrin, he had not returned to New York that Christmas. They had fought about it, but he knew that if he stepped foot on that plane, he would not have returned. And as tempting as the prospect was, he would not abandon his uncle. Not after so long. And so, he had spent his time locked in the old man’s dust-filled office, sorting through financial paperwork, bills, and records dating back at least thirty years. 

But the holidays had passed in a strange, unknowable blur, a maelstrom wrapped in tinsel and the dying glow of blinking lights. But beyond one or two journeys outward, Sonny had seen no one, spoken to no one. Hell, he had not even ventured to mass. Which meant Ricky O’Riley had to go on as Joseph, which was fucking ridiculous because who had ever heard of a ginger Joseph?

Lost in these scattered fragments of memory, Sonny himself had arrived at Bryce’s door unannounced, wrapped in a winter coat and heavy with the sleeplessness of the past weeks. But he saw her everywhere, in the water of the bathtub, reflected in mirrors, and in the crack returning again to his bedroom ceiling, stretching over his head like the roots of some strangling Sequoia.

“I…uh, I came to say goodbye. My uncle’s gonna enjoy his retirement. And I’m gonna, well, I’m gonna go home,” he offered hoarsely, lingering outside. He paused. “,…She tried to kill me, man. Maybe you know. People are talking. ‘Bout how I tried to drown myself in Northwood Lake. But I got to go.” 

if there was anyone who could UNDERSTAND the look in the other man’s eyes and what he had been going through lately it was the irishman. in truth , it had taken him all of november and most of the holiday season before he’d even been able to LEAVE his home and still had remained quite the hermit into the new year. his irish christmas had been a lonely one and he wouldn’t be spotted wandering around town BELTING out ‘ nollalg shona duit ‘ at anyone he crossed paths during decemeber like every year since he moved to pleasance. luckily for him , his four legged companions had kept him company and out of the MENTALLER zone for the most part. the sound of someone knocking on his door was surprising enough these days , but when bryce opened his front door the LAST person he expected to see was sonny colasurdo and it was likely obvious by the look on his face. despite multiple attempts on his part since coming out of hiding he hadn’t been able to get in contact with the other since all the RUMORS began , his uncle doing a good job of getting rid of bryce each time he showed up to call on sonny. 

the irishman drags honey brown hues over his DISHEVELED , frazzled friend lingering like a ghost of who he once was haunting the snowy front porch. unfortunately , bryce knew all too well the look and feel of INSOMNIA that seemed to have transformed his friend in such a short time ― it found a way to seep into your very being only to leave you feeling like a husk of who you once were. there was a part of the man that was RELIEVED to finally lay eyes on sonny and know he was alive , but after seeing the state he was in and hearing what he had to say made the irishman’s WALLS go up immediately. 

bryce clears his throat as he crosses arms over a BROAD chest , dropping his gaze to ridley and scott who were bouncing around in the doorway at his feet yipping excitedly at the familiar man as if to INVITE him inside. after a brief moment of silence on the irishman’s part he finally moves out of the doorway to usher the copper dogs out of the other’s way , “ come in , mate. i can assure ye she isn’t here now , TRUST me i kept waitin’ fer her to show up too ― sumtimes i think maybe i still am. “ the dark-haired man throws another look over his shoulder at sonny , “ ye look like ye could use a STIFF drink. can i make ye summit ? “ it wasn’t uncommon for him to offer his friends a drink when they visited , but after seeing how upset his friend seemed and the sudden DEPARTURE he wasn��t content to have this conversation the way it seemed to be panning out so far. 

the irishman sort of lolls his head to the side as he keeps a hold on his two EXCITED viszlas , “ i promise i won’t let anythin’ happen t’either of us here. i’ve just been tryin’ to see ye since. . well , everything that they say happened to ye but i think uncle nick HATES me. “ bryce drops his dark eyes back down to the dogs as he tries to cope with the thought of someone else DISAPPEARING from his life , but he’d grown accustomed to this. he sighs softly as he looks back at sonny , “ i’d just like to understand what happened to ye , s’all. i can’t blame ye fer wantin’ to go home. FECK , i thought about leavin’ meself for a bit , but. . dismissed that idea pretty quickly. “ there were several reasons he never actually tried to leave , but the biggest of all was his FEAR of finding out he couldn’t if he truly did want to and not to mention there was nowhere for him to go home to. pleasance was his new place to be from or it was supposed to be , deep down he couldn’t face running from another place he considered HOME. 

[ofhoneyblood]

[ofhoneyblood]

☙ MARGARETFLORIST.

“I keep thinking about getting a pet,” Maggie says, watching the pair of dogs excitedly sniff the air in front of them. She’s got one leash wrapped tightly around her hand, the scratching polyester buffered by her thick gloves. “I’m not sure I’ve got the stamina for a dog, but it’s nice to think about having another living creature in my house, you know?” She looks over at Bryce, a smile wrinkling the corners of her eyes. The park is quiet today. There are no seasons in Pleasance that don’t feel haunted, she thinks, taking in the skeletal trees with their frosted tips. Air blows out of her mouth in the shape of a friendly ghost. Everything is still. When she was younger, she was convinced Pleasance existed in a snow globe on some heavenly being’s favorite shelf. Now, she’s not sure it’s a heavenly being. The holidays have come and gone, a new year dawning in the same old town, and Maggie knows that the changing of a calendar has little effect on reality. Still, she’s hopeful. Optimistic, perhaps naively. She has a good feeling about this year. 

“Are you a New Years resolution kind of person?” She asks, turning her gaze forward again. She was glad to be spending time with Bryce. One of her own New Years resolutions was to stop spending so much time alone, to stop wearing a regular path on the streets of Pleasance, to enjoy her friendships as much as her mysteries. “Or are you one of those people unbeholden to time?”

it had taken all of november and most of the HOLIDAY season before the irishman was even mildly comfortable leaving his cabin on a regular basis , but the ever present companions he had in his two viszla’s and the young woman by his side now had been a great AID. maggie had always been someone he could consider a friend , but since ultimately having to save his life on halloween night the two had grown ever closer. ridley and scott had taken to his SAVIOR quite naturally , but the both of them proving too difficult for the lone woman to handle on their walks. it had been the first step on his road to RECOVERY when it came to the town of pleasance , a place he had grown fearful of since october , and something of a routine had been established not only with his PETS but for the irishman himself too.

bryce held on loosely to scott’s hemp rope leash as he let him lead the way through the empty southwood public park , “ aye ? i’m surprised ye don’t consider all yer PLANTS pets , i’ll be honest wit’ye. “ a light chuckle escapes him as he watches ridley tug maggie ahead of the boys , nothing new for the younger female dog , “ OI , ease on back , ridley girl ! “ the copper dog trotted back a few steps to maggie obediently , tongue sticking out of her mouth as was common with the GOOFBALL , and the irishman couldn’t help himself from stopping to crouch down to pet her. a genuine grin stretched across his face as he scratched the dog behind her droopy ears , “ who’s the best lass in de whole wide world , hm ? mizz ridley , me DAISY GAL , das who. “ 

bryce looks up at margaret with raised eyebrows and a mock OFFENDED look on his face , “ there’s a doggo out there fer everybody , mags. ye just hafta’ find the right breed , s’all. “ after giving ridley several pets the irishman stood back up to his FULL height , “ ye ever heard of da cavalier king charles spaniel ? summa de cutest damn dogs i’ve seen. what about a chow chow ? cute and LAZY , i hear. the irish wolfhound , which i’m partial teh i must say , are big but good low energy canine companions too. “ he quirks an eyebrow at the other woman before scott begins tugging at him and he allows the COPPER dog to lead him forward , “ what else were ye thinkin’ then if not a dog ? “ bryce lets blue eyes travel across the landscape as they walked through the park , noting all of the DEAD plant life and the chill that hung in the air only to seep into his bones. 

a soft breath ESCAPES him as he glaces back at his friend , turning her question over in his head , “ i always make ‘em just like everybody else , but who ever actually keeps their resolutions ? feels like settin’ yeself up fer FAILURE , but the pressure to make resolutions comes every year all de same. “ a light huff of a chuckle escaped the big man as he followed leisurely behind his dog , “ i dunno , MATE. . isn’t time just a construct created by man ? i reckon either we’re all beholden to it or none of us are at all. “ bryce clears his throat lightly as he squints in the SUNLIGHT , “ what about ye then ? “

[ofhoneyblood]

RIDLEY + SCOTT ☙ COMPANION ANIMALS

affectionate ○ gentle ○ energetic 

RIDLEY DAISY WINSLOW

age: 6 years old

gender: female

height: 21 inches

weight: 44 pounds  

SCOTT ZEPHYR WINSLOW

age: 8 years old

gender: male

height: 24 inches

weight: 60 pounds

vizslas are a versatile , red-coated gundog built for long days in the field ; easily recognized by their sleek golden-rust coat ; they stand between 21 to 24 inches at the shoulder and are the picture of a lean , light-footed hunter’s companion ; their long , silky ears frame a facial expression that is sensitive and loving around the house and intense when at work ; as hunters expected to work closely with humans , the two have formed tight bonds with bryce and hate to be left alone ; athletes of many talents , they excel at various sports and activities ; they are eager and graceful trotters of great stamina , making them ideal jogging companions ; an active breed and need at least 60 minutes of exercise every day ; they enjoy long walks , jogging , and playing fetch as well as dog sports ; low to moderate shedders and need only weekly brushings to keep them free of loose hair ; they rarely need baths and don't have a strong doggy odor ; both thrive on human companionship ; they'll follow bryce from room to room and like to be touching or touched by him ; suffer from separation anxiety which can lead to destructive behaviors ; chewers , so watch your shoes , but bryce keeps them supplied with plenty of chew toys to protect possessions

the irishman keeps a fenced backyard where they can safely run and play ; their coat doesn't protect them from cold temperatures and they can't thrive without human companionship , so they live in the house ; very affectionate with children and can make great companions for older , energetic kids ; training and socialization was a must and usually is with this breed ; can be difficult to handle if not bryce and they can become shy and timid if they're not comfortable around someone ; do well with other dogs and will even get along with cats ; however , they're not a good fit around small pets such as rabbits , gerbils , guinea pigs , or birds @phqextras

[ofhoneyblood]

BRYCE WINSLOW’S IRISH HOLIDAY ☙ 2020.

bryce does ' christmas ‘ a little bit differently from the rest of the world: in ireland they call the epiphany on january sixth “ little christmas ” or “ women’s christmas ” ( as the women got to go out and have fun while the men stayed at home ) ; he places white candles in the windows on christmas eve ; he will say “ merry christmas ” in English , but often times says instead “ nollaig shona duit ” in irish ; by no means is bryce a christian or catholic , but christmas was a huge deal for his family when he was growing up and therefore there’s a love of it ingrained in him that he can’t shake ; his holiday decoration aesthetic and vibes are very much manly minimalist and rustic i guess , he’s a simple man honestly ; it has been named “ the best christmas song of all time “ and with this irishman fairytale of new york is the one song you are guaranteed to hear everywhere at christmas because christmas just wouldn’t be christmas without it ; fairy lights , crackling fires and creamy pints are perfect scene-setters for an evening of music at bryce winslow’s 

the christmas swim ; the irishman once said of his christmas swim: “ it was worth every second of arctic misery for the sense of achievement that followed. ” on christmas day , thousands of hardy souls used to creep down to the coast and throw themselves into sea ; the christmas swim is still one of bryce’s biggest traditions and up until this year he would do it in northwood lake ; the winter warmer ; there are few drinks as instantly delightful as hot irish whiskey punch ; made with whiskey , lemon , cloves and a touch of brown sugar ( if you need it ) , it warms you up from the inside out ; bryce makes it almost every day during winter and if you ask him there’s nothing like the scent of cloves to get you in the christmas spirit 

spiced beef ; the ultimate christmas dish for bryce and one that the irishman holds particularly close to his heart ; spiced beef is cooked with sugar , spices and berries and dates back centuries to a time when it was a way of preserving the meat ; today , the tradition continues and claims its place on a dinner table at houses all over ireland at christmas time , bryce makes it himself every year ; the christmas tradition of hanging a ring of holly on the door is thought to have originated in ireland , as it was a plant that was abundant on the island in december ; the day after little christmas bryce will bring the tree down @phqextras

☙  NOLLAlG SHONA DUIT 

[ofhoneyblood]

I love the kind of tired that comes from a lot of fresh air and a little too much sun

[ofhoneyblood]

[ofhoneyblood]

[ofhoneyblood]

☙ JHELLSTROM.​

jules smiled small at him, shrugging. “i hadn’t noticed –” that he was getting attention or that he apparently had a big head. she didn’t think so. maybe she clearly wasn’t paying enough attention at all, though. too CONSUMED and WRAPPED UP  in her own bullshit to much care or notice anything else going on. that was… stupid of her. it was hard, though. it was hard not to focus so much on the thing weighing her down. a literal child was LOST, and she couldn’t help feeling that pain, taking it all on. she thought often of how her poor mother felt… how much worse off she was. “yeah, that’s good. yeah.” she sighed. “i’m sorry, not much of a great conversationalist lately. just can’t seem to focus. i guess that answers to how i’m holding up.” she clutched the bottle of pills in her fingers, jaw clenched. “kind of got too stuck in my head, you know?”

bryce chuckled SARDONICALLY as he crosses his arms over his chest , head shaking slightly , “ there it goes gettin’ bigger an’ bigger. oi , how precious can i get ? can’t believe how self centered one little accident’ll make ye. “  not even quite sure if ACCIDENT was the right word for what happened to him on halloween , but he also wasn’t too sure what else to call it. a sigh escapes him as he eyes the UNIMPRESSIVE toiletries selection the general store offered , “ don’t go apologizin’ fer anything now. just been couped up in me gaff fer a while without any real human CONTACT , i’ll stop bendin’ yer ear. “ the irishman nods in understanding as she laments her inability to focus , “ been tryin’ my best not to focus , PERSONALLY. “ 

he muses the statement under his breath , more to himself than anything else , as moves to walk past the blonde to INSPECT the items at the opposite end of the ail. the big man turns back to look at jules as she speaks again , noting the pills clutched in her hand and the muscle in her jaw twitching , “ sure , o’course. . but — JULES , mate , ye sure everything’s good ? s’there anything i can do t’help ? “ concern flashes across the man’s face as he takes a few steps back toward’s his friend , “ can i get ye a STIFF one at da very least ? wouldn’t mind the company meself and i’ll even buy it from yer place’a business this time. “ he attempts a smile but it doesn’t reach his HONEY brown eyes like usual before he’s clearing his throat , dropping his gaze again , “ absolutely no pressure though , o’course. “ 

[ofhoneyblood]

[ofhoneyblood]

@dagnylarsson​

[ofhoneyblood]

☙ MARGARETFLORIST.​

she knows she isn’t magic. as much as hannah has tucked her underneath her wing, maggie doesn’t actually have the yelley blood, that glittering ichor that gives their women a gift. she holds no sway over events, she can’t read cards, the stars are silent when they twinkle above her. still, she thinks about how hard she had wished for something on halloween, how much she wanted the night to unfold in front of her like a flower and present her with something sweet. something had bloomed that night. something dark and terrible. she’d gotten what she wanted – a glimpse inside the alby’s home, a piece of proof, terror kissing exhileration – but at a cost. as she drifts through town, catching pieces of everyone she knows in her outstretched hands, she’s starting to realize how tragic it had been. all the terror. the lost girl, the lost warmth, the lost causes. she’d been tucked up in the attic, safe from it all, just her and her faceless man. she feels selfish. guilty. she knows it’s not her fault and she can’t help but feel like it is. even now, standing across from bryce, she thinks of how they’d walked through the festival and she’d been overflowing with joy. if i hadn’t ran, i could have helped him.

he calls her magpie and she has to stare down at the chips in front of her. he’s the only person in pleasance she lets call her that. it had been a nickname reserved for her sibling, but now, hearing it out of bryce’s mouth, she’s grateful. it puts her back in herself, brings her gently to the present moment. she smiles slightly, just a twist of the mouth, and gives him a little shrug. she bites back another sorry. “you got it,” she says, instead, glancing back up. she nods, listening to him speak about how everything’s turned arseways. he’s right. she gets so wrapped up in the mysteries she forgets, sometimes, about the dangers. the repercussions. the people left behind. like her. “are you eating?” sleep, obviously, has been eluding him—at least a sleep that leaves him well-rested—but she knows when she’s in despair, food is the first to go. it’s also one of the first things that makes her feel like herself. her lips press together tightly. something squeezes in her chest. saved my life. he could have been gone. truly. it chills her. “yeah, thank god.” she studies him for a moment. “is there anything i can do to help? i can’t make food for just one person, so i’m always swimming in leftovers. if you need to eat. or have someone come walk the dogs, or…” she shrugs, unsure of what to say. she can’t give him what they all need: a peace of mind. but she wants to help.

this hollowness be DAMNED ! the irishman was determined to at least try to be some semblance of himself even if he hadn’t quite felt like himself lately , afraid to become a burden. ultimately , the problem was that deep down he knew there was no RATIONAL explanation for what happened on halloween and that nothing anyone did likely would’ve changed the outcome for him; truthfully , he was lucky that someone stepped in at all or he’d surely have been a GONER. he holds his breath briefly as he notes the shift in the other , to this day none the wiser to the history tied to the nickname , “ just got nothin’ t’be sorry fer , MAGS. . s’all. “ he flashes a near apologetic smile that quickly falls from his face as she asks if he has been eating. it’s his turn to STARE down at the donuts in front of him , “ eh , not exactly. kinda’ why i was ‘ere , i guess. “

bryce ducks his head as the young woman offers her HELP to him , his first instinct is to deny that he needed help at all but instead took a moment to listen. a small smile tinged with EMBARRASSMENT on his face as he looks back across the shelf at the florist , “ thank ye kindly , maggie. maybe i’ll take ye up on that sometime , i’m sure ridley an’ scott would love teh see ye again. “ the irishman clears his THROAT lightly as he shifts his weight , shrugging nonchalantly “ as fer those leftovers though — i’d never wanna’ take food outta’ yer MOUTH , but as long as it’s not growin’ anything an’ yer thinkin’ o’gettin rid of it i’ll be glad teh sniff at it first. “ he flashes a more genuine smile at the other as he decides against the donuts in front of him , moving around the partition shelving unit to join his FRIEND in the chip ail. bryce lingers a little further down as he trains his honey brown eyes on the different brands of chips , “ what about you then ? how’s the CRAIC ? “

[ofhoneyblood]

☙ NPAREKH.​

Nadia can’t decide which is stranger: the man’s words or the man’s accent with which he speaks said words. She shrugs and puts the novel little gargoyle back on the shelf, ready to collect dust until the next curious antiquing aficionado finds intrigue in its peculiar design.

Her attention is directed back towards the man when he speaks once more. Seems fair enough — a question for a question. “Uh… sure?”

spend long enough in PLEASANCE and you’re bound to be corned by the local irishman to answer a random question about something obscure you probably could not care less about. today’s VICTIM happened to be none other than the beautiful dark haired woman perusing the antique store’s many curiosities , “ i don’t mean to bother ye er’anything , honest. feel free teh let me down EASY if ye got better things teh be doin’. “  bryce turns his attention back to the white antique mirror he had fished out from behind a cabinet and bedside table after having hidden it the last time he had found himself in FOR KEEPS. 

when nadia joined him in front of the mirror he flashes a grateful smile at her before gesturing towards the antique , “ what d’ye think about this OLD mirror here ? i got this hobby collecting cool antiques and outfitting ‘em in neon lights , ye see , and i’ve been debatin’ on  this LOOKIN’ GLASS fer a while now. d’ye reckon i should go fer it ? “ the irishman removes his eyes from the fixer upper and returns them to the woman with a friendly smile warming his face , a look of genuine interest on his face as he awaits her ANSWER. what it really came down to was bryce needed even just the slightest of nudges to spend money on another PROJECT and he was always looking for another inanimate object to pour his affections into. 

[ofhoneyblood]

[ofhoneyblood]

@ATLAS82

arches nat’l park , utah.  

2015

[ofhoneyblood]