stuckoncarew

[stuckoncarew]

closed: @aquarics where: the stage

Part of him missed it. The rush of performing like he'd done through high school, but was now nothing more than a buried past time. But doing it for something like this? He understood is, but did he? Still he found himself tapping his foot against the dirt before he'd even realized it. Leaned against the make shift stage with a paper plate of fries, grinning a little too wide as he people watched the crowd for whatever chaos the rest were up to. "You know I gotta say I'm a little bit impressed. I was a little doubtful that events committee was something that could be used for good and not evil, but you guys actually did a pretty great job getting this set up." He mumbled as he tossed a fry in the air and attempted to catch it between his teeth. "Now the important question I've got for you Miss Elif... When and where are we whipping out some beer. Because it's feeling just a little too wholesome at the moment."

[stuckoncarew]

Closed: @ofamystery where: By the campfires

Carew's love of a good time came in waves. At times it was reminiscent of a time in his life where it went a little too far, but even after a few drinks he could settle his mind. Other times, he was fully able to throw caution to the wind. It was a party, intent on calming the chaos that could be going through the minds of every individual trapped in this strange new world they found themselves in. The initial absence of alcohol only had him slightly concerned he'd be battling the first of the two entirely dry, but the sight of one specific face gave him at least the glimmer of hope. Had Hazel not shown up in New Ham with him, he often wondered if she'd have been one of the few things for him to miss from the world outside.

"You know your little lookout job is even more important tonight than on any given day right? All it's going to take is a few seconds too long and people are going to actually think it's okay to run around with fully burnt s'mores. Barbaric at best really." He started, as though he hadn't just snuck up from behind her to make himself known.

[stuckoncarew]

The energy throughout the town seemed to move in waves. Sometimes things felt electric and new, other times it felt hopeless, bleak, meaningless. He assumed eventually it'd all fold into some sort of grey mass of feelings but hoped they were far from it. The idea of a grey world sent a shiver up his spine. A world where no one cared was a world gone mad. He swore he'd read that somewhere, but couldn't put his finger on the where. Certainly not in the book that sat in his lap as he listened to the endless sound of Enzo throwing the ball in the air. Part of him lost in the rhythmic sound of it. Another disconcerted with the reality that this could theoretically go on forever if they let it.

The sound of the other boys voice was welcomed, though it caught him off guard as he closed the book around his thumb and turned to face him. "Never opposed to a permitter check. This the kind of thing you want to get a group together for, or you want to face what we find when we get there mano a mano."

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐃     ,     @societystarters .

                enzo  truly  felt  as  though  he  was  going  stir  crazy  in  this  place...         (      whatever  type  of  purgatory  type  shit  this  was.     )        maybe  it  had  just  been  a  week  or  two  but  he  was  definitely  losing  track  of  the  time.  it  feeling  a  lot  more  like  it  had  been  months...  𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒  even.  then  again,  there  was  nothing  more  suffocating  and  stir  crazy  worthy  that  knowing  you  were  stuck.  was  he  planning  on  leaving  west  ham  any  time  soon ?  even  before  all  of  this ?  sure,  he  had  𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒  pictured  himself  getting  the  hell  out  of  that  town  but  knowing  enzo...  he'd  end  up  staying.  something  with  his  mother  or  someone  else  in  his  life  keeping  him  around.  but  at  least  then  there  would  still  be  the  option  to  leave.  here,  in  the  new  world  there  was  no  option  at  all.  they  were  stuck  in  time...  the  more  he  thought  about  it  the  more  it  made  him  sick  to  his  stomach  and  he  knew  he  had  to  do  something  quick  or  he'd  find  himself  in  a  downward  spiral  which  wouldn't  really  go  well  with  his  whole,  putting  on  a  neutral,  good  and  even  happy  face.  plus,  if  there  was  one  thing  enzo  was  good  at  it  was  pretending  everything  was  fine,  having  a  good  time...  trying  to  keep  things  easy  and  fun.         (      or  that's  what  he  liked  to  put  off.     )        ⏤       laying  on  the  ground,  enzo  threw  the  baseball  up  into  the  air  before  catching  it,  repeating  the  action  over  and  over  again.  a  sigh  finally  escaping  his  lips  as  he  pushed  himself  up  and  looked  at  the  other,  the  repetitive  nature  starting  to  drive  him  up  a  wall  just  as  much  as  everything  else.         ❛     we  should  do  something,  go  check  out  the  town  line  or  some  shit.  i  don't  know ?  anything  but  sticking  around  over  here.     ❜

[stuckoncarew]

He was trying to recall the last time he'd even stepped foot in a bookstore. Maybe when he'd first moved to town? When his grandparents were still around? The shop seemed so familiar and like a total stranger all at the same time. Which wasn't much of a surprise. He was certain there were times in his life his ability to read may have even been called into question. Those times the same ones that had him so eager to jump at her statement. "What is hope if not delusion waiting to be disproven?" Yeaaah that sounded smart right? "I guess the same thing could be said for what I'm doing here. Looking for something but I don't totally know what I'm looking for if that makes sense."

status. open @societystarters

the bookstore smelt like dust and paper — old comfort wrapped up in a new kind of silence. the perfect bow. yasemin sat cross-legged behind the counter. a paperback open in her lap, though she hadn't turned the page in over six minutes. “ people keep taking the books with happy endings, ” she said aloud, not looking up. “ i can't decide if that's hopeful or delusional. ” she finally glanced up, hues catching sight of someone nearby, “ looking for something ? or just hiding ? ”

[stuckoncarew]

Carew couldn't help but wonder if there would ever be a time, he wasn't being handed a phone with the slightest hope of seeing something different on the screen. Something to give them even the slightest bit of hope. And while sure the photo was different it wasn't. Just another moment of time. Stuck. "I don't know about front page, but definitely one of those they might scroll through as an advertisement on Netflix."

status.   open to everyone, @societystarters . location.    anywhere there could be a crowd .

“ what do you think? ” handing her phone off so they could get a better look at the screen. specifically, the group photo she managed to snag in the midst of all the discussions. “ i dare you to tell me that's not the perfect photo for the 'surviving ... whatever this is' documentary they're bound to make whenever they figure all this out. ”

[stuckoncarew]

𝓐𝓷𝓭 𝓘 𝓫𝓾𝓻𝓷 𝓲𝓽 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓖𝓪𝓼𝓸𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓼 𝓞𝓾𝓻𝓹𝓱𝓸𝓽𝓸𝓰𝓻𝓪𝓹𝓱𝓼 𝓲𝓷 𝓪𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓼

( archie renaux, he/him, cis man, twenty five. ) did you see ( carew markham) around west ham lately? whenever i think of them, i can’t help but picture ( beanies year round, a half smoked cigarette behind his ear, new hair style constantly, and bruised knuckles) i’ve heard that they’ve taken up a role in this “new world” as a ( the home team. ) people say they’re ( articulate, creative, and laid back) but can also come across as ( indecisive, hot headed, and sarcastic) if i had to pick an anthem for them, it’s probably ( gasoline & matches by cameron whitcomb. ) as for where they’d be staying, you could probably found them at ( house 6 ) in my opinion, they’re probably ( the spitfire. ) intriguing, right? don’t count on this being the last you see or hear from them…

Bio:

“Things end. People leave. And you know what? Life goes on.” Some people grow up with bible verses being recited at them over and over until they have no choice but to believe them as the absolute truth. Unfortunately for Carew, this was his bible verse. Recited to him for the very first time in the sixth grade when he came home to silence instead of the usual screaming. A deafening quiet when all he and his brother had known for months was the sounds of slamming doors, pointed fingers, hushed curses as if their intentions didn’t fly across the room like gunshots. 

The portrait that once sat on the hall table vanished, replaced already with a bowl of potpourri as if the faces of their family had never once existed in its place. At first glance, you would have questioned if the matriarch of the Markham family had ever lived there at all. His dad had always been that way. So quick to try and clean up the mess. Disguise their pain as poise to keep up the image that their lives weren’t falling apart around them.

The phrase was muttered a second time when Carew was in high school. More specifically after raiding some prick jocks basement and accidentally coming away with what could only be mathematically described as a metric fuck ton of weed. Enough to get his brother arrested when it was found in his car where Carew had thought to stash it. His brother had always seemed like such a goody two shoes. How was he supposed to know he’d ever do anything fucked up enough to get his car searched by the cops.  

To make matters worse, he loved his brother. His brother had always cared for and protected him. And when push came to shove, there was nothing Carew could say to convince him not to take the fall. 

He wasn’t in jail long. But he also didn’t bother coming back after the fact. 

After his brother's arrest, Carew couldn’t handle continuing to live at home. The house felt haunted when it was just the two of them. Neither saying a word. Going about their days, ignoring all they’d lost. Acting like shadows didn’t haunt their home. It was the beginning of his senior year when he decided to move down to West Ham to live with his grandparents. Desperate for a change of scenery and to be around people who knew how to exchange more than short pleasantries when he’d walk in the room. 

For a few years, things were brighter. There might have even been a hint of hope floating in the ether. Memories of gray skies, buried under the warmth of the sun he felt on his face on the weekends when he didn’t have to think about the life he was trying to hide from. But alas things end as he was too often reminded.  

For it wasn’t age that stole the life from his grandparents eyes far too soon, but a drunken tourist who lost control behind the wheel of a car. It could have happened to anyone. It could have been anyone else in the car that was t-boned so hard it flew across the intersection, but it wasn’t. It was two more lives Carew felt were tainted by his presence. Like somehow being around him was enough to warrant their untimely end. 

There were enough whispers at the funeral to fill a stadium about what this would mean due to the rocky terrain that stretched between Carew and his relationship with his father. Would they reconnect as the only family  they each had left? Or would the wedge remain too unrepairable. 

To make  a long story short it was the latter. Carew and his father made a deal. So long as he never had to see his face again, Carew could remain in the house that his grandparents owned. Only a slightly expected yet still devastating blow to any hope he'd had at a re-connection. A feeling made worse by the realization that in this new world he and the town had been thrust into, there was no one left on the outside looking for him.

Wanted Connections:

Passenger Seat- Looking for that ride or die. That late night drive, always the alibi friend that doesn't seem to mind that Carew has always kept them at an arms length despite making it seem like they're close as can be.

Bar Stool Buddies- Just what it sounds like. Someone to vibe at a bar with. This can be a confidant? This can be someone to simply make bad decisions with? Could also just be one of those silly lil drunk threads where they end up doing karaoke until they pass out under a piano.

Confidant- That one/two people that he's developed the ability to have a real conversation with. Usually in the dim light of a refrigerator at one in the morning but someone he can share theories and thoughts with. Whether that goes well or not.

TBD....

[stuckoncarew]

there’s nothing more satisfying than the sound of hitting someone solid in the fucking jaw.