#joshlincoln

[atlaswilliams]

location — auto parts store.

character — @joshlincoln

With spring creeping closer, there were a few tune ups that the Bighorn Hills native wanted to make to his bike. Weekly start ups had proven that everything still sounded good and that in theory, as soon as the weather allowed, he trade out the Jeep for something far more his speed. At least, when he wasn't responsible for transporting one child or another. The construction worker weaved through aisles, grabbing some items here and there to toss into his basket. He paused when the body of another was blocking his view of a particular shelf. "Excuse me," he hummed to the back of the blonde. If only he'd gotten a better view initially, he would have reconsidered saying a single thing. The man, aged and far off from the teenager he'd been during first run-ins, had somehow changed a lot and not much at all. "Long time," he added in a playful tone. A phantom pain shot through his jaw as his gaze swept over the man's hands. If he remembered anything at all, it was the force behind every swing and the surprise that had followed. Standing before him was one of the few people he'd ever pulled back from. It was his dumbass arrogance that had gotten him into the trouble away and what had followed had been entirely on him. "You doin' alright?"

[sunihayez]

location — downtown area.

character — @joshlincoln

For the lack of a better word, she was screwed. Her not so trustworthy beater of a car had finally called it quits on her. To make matters worse, the next available tow truck was an hour away and every Uber in the city had apparently taken the day off or had other passengers in need. "I understand. It's just, I need one thing to go right today," she pleaded, though it was met with an awkward clearing of a man's throat before the line disconnected. In fifteen minutes, a happy bride to be would be knocking at her shop's door, wondering why the closed sign was still flipped. By foot, University was a good thirty-minute walk, perhaps even twenty if she picked up her pace. Fingers danced over her keyboard and a flesh crept into her cheeks. "Hey, Martha? It's Suni. I'm sorry to do this, but could we reschedule? Try for the same time tomorrow? I'll throw in a free arrangement for the inconvenience." As she waited the woman's approval, or the lack thereof, she turned, her nasty habit of pacing while on the phone backfiring. The strong chest that stopped her in her tracks was nothing but comparison to the familiar cologne that hit her twice as hard. Not even closing her eyes tightly would change the situation she had found herself in. "Mhm. Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow." Slowly, Suni lowered her phone, a rush of emotions coursing through her as her lids fluttered open to confirm the very thing she already knew. Lincoln. Joshua Lincoln. "Hey." It was short, but her lungs were folding in and anything more would have surely caused her voice to break.

[verdadurmaz]

The baker lifted her chin and forced a smooth breath from her lungs. She knew most people that walked through the front door of her bakery. Some were customers that visited daily, while others were more the special occasion type. Casual conversation in between visits often led to her figuring out certain things. Whether it was the name of one's pet, or how long they'd been in the city, she always came away with a bit more money during the exchange.

With him, it was like every response drew her further into the dark. It was frustrating in the way that had her eager to keep pushing. "Oh, I was just curious if you were in the mood to use the crosswalk sign this time." She studied him hard, her darkened gaze tracing over every feature for any sign of a tell.

Considering he'd shown up in one piece, it meant that fate hadn't gotten the best of him, even if it seemed like he was ready for it to do just that. There was a sense of relief that washed over her while in his presence. Seeing him standing there meant that for that moment, he was fine.

She couldn't explain why she cared, but thankfully, she didn't peg him as the type of person who'd even bother asking. "It's good to see you again." It was added in a quiet tone.

Mere stranger or not, she didn't want to see anyone flattened to the pavement.

A nervous chuckle was released as a flush rose to her cheeks. "We're still figuring out the whole marriage." Impulsiveness had gotten the best of her, but truth be told, she hadn't expected Emmy to follow through. Wine spiked veins and sleepy agreements in bed weren't the usual ingredients to marriage anyway.

"Coming up on a year in a couple of months." She knew how it sounded. After a year of being together, things were either going to work or they weren't. She thought back to her time with Ale and how easy things had always been between them. Was that the kind of happiness she should have been chasing?

Verda nipped at the inside of her cheek a little too roughly, causing a quiet profanity to fall into the air. It was selfish to wonder about, especially considering the woman's current state of mind.

And then came the real guilt. Her missing sister? It was someone that the baker had gotten intimate with. A fact she'd only discovered after seeing one of the missing persons flyers.

In between shuffling a mix of savory and sweet treats into a container, her eyes fell on him. Whatever haunted him, it seemed to have a death grip. "I thought the same thing for a long time." She wondered his reasoning, but doubted he'd share such.

Instead of questioning, she side stepped for the coffee, her gaze dropping to the unlit cigarette between his full lips. Was it a comfort thing? She couldn't quite tell. "It's on the house this time. Consider it an apology for how things went down last time."

She'd had no right raising her voice at him, but concern, fear, and a buzzing pulse had left her responding poorly.

"Since I didn't get a chance to ask last time... are you from around here?"

@joshlincoln

Masking. Perhaps that was Linc's best talent rather than his abilities on a motorcycle of any kind. The moment she mentioned risk taking the slightest smile ghosted his somewhat dry lips. "Not sure what you mean." To most everyone he saved it for the track or all the dirt around his property and off into the hills, where he rode like a man possessed with torment.

Despite the years he'd put into his modern Robin Hood antics, no one had a single clue who'd done all those robberies. Each bank was too far from Providence Peak to be connected but it seemed not a single soul would suspect the bleached blond who'd made millions would be taking such risks.

Why would he need to rob a bank?

There wasn't a single reason other than to see what he could get away with. The ruffian liked to tempt fate. It never seemed to choose him, no matter what he did, so Linc did anything.

The money was usually given away or stored somewhere safe. What possible rainy day could arise? It was anyone's guess.

And he liked that.

Unknowns weren't scary to him anymore. They might not have ever been given that he had begun making his own way as a teenager.

When they'd first met the racer hadn't forgotten the look on the baker's face. He'd stepped out onto the road without bothering to look each way, and subsequently a vehicle had nearly hit him, and blared their horn in response after their tires had screeched against the pavement. Some explicative were shouted from an opened window, but Linc had carried on without so much as a blink.

Stronger than fear?

Stronger than death?

Despite her questions then and the way she alluded to that past day now, Linc fixated on the ring adorning her pretty finger. It traversed his thoughts to a time his best friend had been engaged to the woman he loved. How that would never come to be now.

"You're unsure?" The racer noted the conflict in her gaze, a faint reaction as her attention went to the circle that bound her to another. "How new?"

The question had taken him by surprise. Did he look like someone anyone would want? There was no chance of a happy ending or settling down. Linc was sure women could smell that on a man. Sense it subconsciously. Of course, some came along thinking he was fixable following the accident that had changed his life, but some things, some people, just couldn't be repaired.

Cerulean eyes followed the baker as she moved to grab some snacks for him. He'd already laid cash out on the counter next to the register. Always cash. Never a card nor a phone with some way to digitally pay.

"Nah. I'm not good for anyone," said the man of few words. Any bit of speech practically had to fight its way out.

"Yeah," he answered for the coffee, "with some cream, please." Cigarette now dangled from his lips. / @verdadurmaz

[tysingh]

closed starter for @joshlincoln at the sinners and saints event ft. passion 🌶️

Tyler had been prepared to put the night down as an overall loss, her shitty mood not helped enough by the flowing booze to put her in the right mental state to be open to having a good time. Luckily for Ty, the night was saved by the appearance of an old friend. There weren't many of them that she'd managed to hang on to over the years, but Linc was someone that she'd been through all of the ups and downs with of being a professional athlete from a young age. That familiarity, coupled with his similar inclination for trouble, was the perfect storm of what she needed to salvage the evening.

"I'm telling you, there's absolutely a fucking hot tub on the roof and we deserve to be in it," she insisted, one hand wrapped around the hem of Linc's shirt, partially as a way to drag him along and partially as a way of securing herself from drunkenly tumbling down anywhere. Ty didn't know for sure if there was a hot tub on the roof, but she was assuming that a fancy place like this had no reason to not have one up there. Smashing the buttons for the elevator a half dozen times impatiently, the elevator eventually coming to a stop on their floor and opening up to just two other figures tucked into the corner.

Were Ty paying enough attention, she might have noticed the fact that belt buckles were undone and shirts were halfway off from the couple in the corner. Instead, she barged right on in, pulling Linc with her just as the doors began to close. There was a jolting start to the elevator, going up barely two floors before a loud creaking sound started and everything came to a complete halt. Once again, Ty's hands started to smash buttons to try and will the thing back to life, a frown now settled in her drunken eyes.

There was a moment of silence before a low moan came from the other corner of the elevator, the couple paying no mind to the fact that they were stopped or the fact that there were now other people present. "Oh, you've got to be fucking joking," she grumbled, trying her best to tear her eyes away from the passionate make out session taking place beside them. "Linc, make them stop. Or I will."

[providencepeakrp]

The following players have 24 hours to resume activity after hiatus or risk being unfollowed. Note: If you have already posted, feel free to disregard.

@atlaswilliams

@verdadurmaz

@khalilhassan

@max-cortez

@sunihayez

@wesxkennedy

@aylaceylin

@alesolcno

@jesseelmassalamy

@cheyohara

@joshlincoln

[dtorres]

location: the jagged yard. player: @joshlincoln

As Daniel sat at the local bar on Coyote Night, the air thick with the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses, he couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. Coyote Night always brought back memories of wild escapades and reckless adventures from his younger years. Lost in his thoughts.

As Daniel turned to scan the crowed, eyes widened in surprise as he came face to face with his old childhood friend, Linc. The familiarity in his boy's eyes mirrored Daniel's own memories, a silent acknowledgment of the bond they shared, one forged through years of mischief.

"Fancy running into you here," Daniel said with a grin, his tone carrying a hint of amusement as he stood to greet his friend."Where ya been man?" He asked, as if he hadn't been missing from action these past months on end himself.

[silascodys]

for: @joshlincoln​

where: the bone & rattle 

“How confident are you that this can be pulled off? On a scale of piece of piss to this could get real fucked up real fast?” It’s not that Silas has any doubts about Lincoln’s skill when it came to pulling off a heist, the fact he was walking around without any legal intervention was a solid enough display of his prowess with it, but he still exercised just a smidge of caution. 

( He was in no rush to land himself back up the river. ) 

If prison truly was an opportunity to better yourself if you wanted it, Silas felt like he was a success story and a perfect example of that -- from a simple drug dealer to eyeing up the spoils of a bank robbery. That was coming up in the world, according to him. 

[angeladowling]

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Angela Dowling (@angagram1d)

Q1 Tower Listening to Josh Lincoln play Harry Styles Watermelon Sugar #Q1tower #skypoint #JoshLincoln #HarryStyles #WatermelonSugar #cocktail #fypシ (at SkyPoint Australia) https://www.instagram.com/p/CQnMmjUhEEb/?utm_medium=tumblr

[exhaleddcsires]

closed: @joshlincoln location: food stalls

“I’m not sure what they really have to offer.” Elijah said with a shrug as they walked down the row, doing his best to take note of what each booth was selling. “Did you see beer? There’s too many signs to keep up with.” He let out a laugh. “Maybe once we start drinking they’ll make more sense.”

[deanjacksons]

Character name: Dean Jackson.

Age: 36.

Gender identification: Cis Male.

Preferred pronouns: He/Him.

Residential area: Marpole.

Occupation: Firefighter.

Length of time in Vancouver: 36 years / his whole life.

tws for biography: death, fire, grief.

BIOGRAPHY.

The firstborn of two boys, Dean Jackson felt like he was always supposed to be a big brother. His life before Jake came along is one he holds no memory of, from age three onwards, much of his very existence was devoted to seeing his younger brother thrive.

The pair grew up in a loving and oftentimes chaotic household being raised by a father who worked in finance and a mother who could never quite settle on what she wanted to do. She tried on every kind of career and calling, which meant for the most part she was at home raising the pair of them without ever any complaint despite the mischief they liked to get themselves into.

While growing up and all through high school, Dean had little idea of a future for himself. He knew that he needed a career, needed some sort of structure and purpose, but the dreams of those around him – medicine, professional athleticism, astronaut – held no appeal to him.

It wasn’t until his senior year when the pressure really set in and college was a looming threat rather than a desired outcome did he settle on what he wanted to do and who he wanted to be.

Forgoing the traditional four year college path, he set about training locally as a firefighter instead, a job he took to with enthusiasm and expertise which was a far cry from his previous experiences working minimum wage jobs throughout school. Even from the time he was a probationary firefighter, it was clear to his colleagues that if he wanted to, Dean could rise through the ranks quickly.

His career trajectory was stilted when at twenty-seven while on a routine code-check he received word that his brother had died on a climbing trip. For all his years of worrying over him, from spills on his bike to injuries sustained from doing dumb stunts with his friends, he had thought at twenty-four Jake had grown out of his reckless streak. No such luck.

The loss of his brother changed everything. The once happy Jackson home was strangled by grief after the unexpected loss, weekly Sunday dinners had become a thing of the past and now it was rare for the three of them to gather together unless it was a holiday or a day to commemorate Jake. It was too hard to otherwise.

Dean’s way of coping after the dust had settled was to throw himself into work in a way he hadn’t before. He became almost obsessive about being the best firefighter he could be, to become the kind of man who could have saved his brother if he had been on the mountain with him that day.

PERSONALITY.

+ loyal, brave, ambitious.

- disorganised, dogmatic, reckless. 

FUN ADJACENT FACTS.

he’s bisexual.

played drums for fun in high school, was not very good at it but god loves a trier. 

has secretly been feeding a stray cat he calls blaze that hangs around his firestation, much to his colleagues annoyance.

has been in a number of local news coverage and articles for some of the saves he’s performed as well as a handful of podcast interviews.

keeps a seat free at any sort of celebration or holiday for his brother jake. 

CURRENT CONNECTIONS.

cousin of @jordanmitchell

downlow baby daddio to @kirazsayar 

almost brother-in-law of @nazsayar

firefighting bros with @abhimanyu-vohra 

homewrecker to @raleighrose 

strained friend of @joshlincoln​ 

casual (in the most complicated sense of the word) now an again hook up of @rominalazar 

arson preventer to @jjaspr 

frequent flier patient of @gabrielacortes​​ ​

big brother vibes to @sancmsayar​

SPECIFIC WANTED CONNECTIONS.

tba.

GENERIC WANTED CONNECTIONS.

connections wise he’s pretty much an open book right now, but some baseline ideas that can be springboarded off are:

friendly.

a best friend / ride or dies / close friends / childhood friends / high school era friends / pseudo-siblings / friends / drunk friends / new friends / former roommates / fellow firefighters. 

romantic

flirtationship / friends with benefits / one time hook ups / tinder matches / unrequited crush (can be either way) / exes from childhood / exes from high school / exes from his twenties / exes on good terms.

antagonistic.

enemies / former (best) friends / exes on bad terms / frenemies / rivals / negative influence / co-workers he doesn’t get along with. 

[boyd-harris]

—Starter for @joshlincoln​

He’d still rather pretend that Lila’s return was a particularly cruel fever dream, but the last thing he needed was to be caught unawares again. He could do this due diligence while still hoping the problem would just go away on his own. That meant going around to all the people she used to be closest with, getting their read on the situation and just how seriously he should take the threat of Lila coming back into the picture.

“So, Lila’s back in town,” he started. There was no way of making that sound natural or casual to bring up in conversation, so he didn’t even try. “Came by my work with a shitload of letters and stuff, claiming to be sober.”

[liladurmaz]

who : @joshlincoln​

where : the docks

At the end of the dock, the man stood with a cigarette burn between his fingers. She knew where to find him - a piece of home unlike the rest, the single person on this planet Lila believed would never judge her. Her fingertips buzzed, tingling up her wrists and along her arms. It felt like some sort of punishment that the one ghost from her past that made her almost excited for reconciliation, felt the most dangerous. He’d always been that for her though, hadn’t he? It was who Josh Lincoln was. He existed like air, necessary but hard to hold onto. His hands painted red over and over from crimes other than those of the law. Her heart shattered for him more than once. She placed no blame on him, because she understood him deeply. A similar thread tied through them both that of a drunken parent and a life slipped away when no one else was around (for him a friend and her a sister). Lila never fooled herself into thinking she could be special to him. Like it was said, he was like air. Thoughts like that weakened with every empty bed she awoke to.

Still, this heartache felt different than the rest. The week exhausted her, tore her apart. Boyd left her with doubt, stating she’d never be allowed near Matilda. Levi showed up at her door with questions. She attended meeting after meeting divulging her soul to a room full of strangers as her addiction teased her. Maybe, selfishly, she just want to be with someone whose baggage matched hers, who seemed to like her just enough when she was the scrappy little mess from her past. Her hands wrapped her sweater around her tighter. Despite it being summer, the nights in Vancouver brought a chill.

“Jay.” She called out for him to turn around, knowing he’d despise the nickname. Her voice cut through the otherwise quiet night. The sounds of water sloshing against the boats serves as a soothing white noise. Like everyone else in her life, when she disappeared those 8 years ago, it was the last anyone saw of her. The neat hair and preppy sweater adorned her in a new look. Dark hues traced his face, light slightly by the warm lighting of the surrounding docked boats.

[defnexsayar]

starter for @joshlincoln​ location: the pour house 

After a long day at Oz Turkish Coffee and Bakery, Defne found herself at the local pub on the way back to her home. The Pour House was a place that Defne frequented, at least when she was on the way home. Stepping inside the establishment, Defne laid eyes on a familiar face. . “Okay, tell me you need a drink. Another drink. I need a drink.” She shook her head, sitting down on the barstool next to her. “Did you know plumbing costs a fortune?” 

[max-cortez]

Understanding the universe was an impossible task. How it brought two people back together time and again was a complete mystery that Maximiliano had no real desire to truly figure out. Instead, it was gratitude that inked his features, his mouth curved upwards with the mere knowledge of the man lingering nearby.

Even without looking back, he knew the man well. He supposed that came within the territory of watching him grow up, just as Linc had watched him do the same. He was no longer the teenage boy he'd known all those years ago, but a filled out man with as many demons, if not more still following him like a shadow over his shoulder.

It was Chey's name that caused that barely there smile to tug wider. "I am." He didn't need to confirm, but he did so anyway and a sense of pride washed over him. His only regret with the brunette was that he hadn't stepped up sooner.

"You know her well?" The tattoo artist paused and lifted his pen from the paper that had once been nothing more than a blank canvas for his taking. When it came to the woman he loved, nothing else mattered more.

Max shifted in his chair, head shaking as his gaze caught the blonde's blues, a mix of worry and anger stirring in his own dark orbs. "A piece of shit." It rolled off his tongue all too smoothly, but there was nothing casual about the way he felt towards Carter. It was only a wonder he hadn't gone out of his way to handle the mess of a man.

"Broke into her place a couple of months back. Scared her pretty good. He hasn't been back since. He always been a piece of work?" He knew the answer. He'd seen in Chey's eyes when she'd told him what happened to the place. That kind of fear didn't brew overnight. It came from years of uninterrupted torment.

His free hand clenched into a fist, knuckles aching for reprieve. "If he ever shows his face again, I might end up in some trouble." Might was a definite stretch. If Carter ever stepped foot near Chey or their child, no warning in the world would keep him grounded.

The only thing that could possibly keep him in check was the professor asking him not to. Even then, the tightness in his chest and unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach wasn't so certain that would be enough.

@joshlincoln

— characters: linc & max — setting: a touch of ink, downtown — tagging: @max-cortez

They never got around to much conversation. Neither man much for words, very specific company notwithstanding, which meant that he and Max, their friendship spanning back a decade and a half, found nonverbal ways of communicating.

The lack of words coupled with the spirit of a wanderer left Linc clueless as to why the artist had settled in his part of the world. He'd always meant to ask, then whenever they were in each other's company it just never came out.

Like a lot of things.

Somehow he'd gotten a feel for the reason regardless. A comment here, a mention of something there, and something in the man's eyes. Max was as aimless as he was, or so he'd discerned in his own observations, but what he'd gathered was that the man with the needle gun was looking for a place to rest.

Weariness always wore down a vagabond.

With a cigarette being delivered to his lips for a pull, the ruffian waited patiently as Max worked on a sketch, something permanent he trusted the artist to stain into his skin. "You're with Chey," a statement not a question. Perhaps the look in his troubled eyes would tell him that he'd grown up with her, that she deserved to be happy after what she'd been through.

Those rumors still haunted him.

Almost as much as the sight of the bruising on the young girl.

"How's her brother?" Now a question, a loaded one at that. After Carter's recent antics around town he'd been meaning to find the guy. The azure gaze that peered at Max was sharp, no room was left to guess the full meaning behind those three words.

[nazsayar]

❝ sail under the stars with @joshlincoln —

God-fucking-Dean-Jackson. 

She’d been determined to heed Kira’s wishes. To avoid her little sister’s lifelong crush turned baby daddy at all costs lest her own mouth work itself into the middle of an already messy situation. It’d worked... for a little while. And then the universe saw it fit to put them both on the same boat at the same time with zero means of escaping. 

Naz should’ve just walked away. The second her eyes landed on his eyes - on what might as well have been Jake’s eyes - she should’ve turned in her stupid heels and went the other way.

Instead, she’d confronted him head on like a car crash gone off a bridge and now had a drink in each hand to soothe herself of the consequences. Not that she needed more. Pretty much since the moment she boarded the ship she’d been leaning on the promised open bar policy. Had a little extra sway in her step now to prove it. 

Around the bend and another sip deeper toward the bottom of her figurative bottle she headed back for where she thought her complimentary room might be when— Colliding into something more solid than air but less than the flat force of an actual brick wall she let out a muffled ‘oof’ against someone’s chest.

No, not someone. 

Her eyes flicked north while her lips prepped a half assed apology of sorts, landing directly on Josh. “It’s you again.” Even despite her abysmal mood that was two steps away from a full blow spiral, Nazli’s mouth was lured into a tiny grin. Fuck, but she really couldn’t complain about seeing him. 

“Is this one of those checking up discreetly moments gone wrong?” Her mouth twitched with the threat to stretch wider. “Or a really strange second coincidence?”

[margotmoore]

who : @joshlincoln​

where : seafaire square ballroom

Margot would never say it out loud, but she missed this kind of thing. She liked dressing up in pretty clothes and endless drinks and the way opulence felt. An event like this meant her father wasn’t too far away, something she felt acutely aware of. Margot tip toed a line of salacious, but not too disappointing when it came to him, hence the somewhat risque dress she chose for the evening. The woman downed her glass of champagne, eyes searching to room, wanting nothing more than to avoid him. A deep voice echoed behind her. Mia. Her heart dropped into her stomach suddenly. Margot reminded herself of the commonality of the name as she turned to see if the man’s voice was actually talking to her. Eyes traced up to a rich pair of blue orbs, then back down to a slightly ironic t-shirt. “You must have the wrong girl.” Margot smiled politely, now further convincing herself he hadn’t called her that for the reason she might have though. No, this guy, this.. fucking.. this.. 10 out of 10, straight out of a movie bad boy looking guy? Margot assumed most of her subscribers fit under a less than favorable description.