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Post by dylan on Dec 20, 2012 14:26:52 GMT -8
Things had been terrible lately, really terrible. And that wasn't over exaggerating. First his dad died, and then his mother got a new abusive boyfriend and then a few weeks later his girlfriend and best friend had both left town. And then his mother died. So all in all, he was having a very bad time. Oh and his brother had decided to join the army, so the only person he had left was his five year old sister. Well and Jamie...but he couldn't really count the arrogant prick as even a friend, at least he didn't think he could. He picked on him constantly and made him feel worthless at every opportunity, so Dylan wasn't exactly counting on him even if he had taken him and Madeline in. He didn't have to do that, they would have been fine in foster care...he didn't really believe that but he liked to shout it at Jamie on occasion.
Dylan was definitely angrier than he had ever been and that was really quite something. The littlest thing could spark fury in the teenager and in Dylan that was something quite dangerous and something you really did not want to do. On top of that, he seemed determined to drink his bodyweight in alcohol, drowning his sorrows didn't seem to be working so far but he'd be damned if he was going to stop trying. It at least made him forget and as he was drunk for most of the day for the other half of the day, he was sleeping. That was what his life was now. Going out to bars, getting drunk, getting in fights, loosing those fights, getting a little more drunk and then stumbling home to pass out.
And that was what he was doing now, apart from the fact he wasn't planning on passing out, He had been ejected from The Hyde earlier than usual for getting in a brawl with one of the other customers. Who had given him a good hiding. So instead he planned on stumbling home and then raiding Jamie's drinks cupboard which were pretty much always fully stocked. Plus he had quit bothering to lock it now since Dylan had ripped the door off its hinge the last time he had tried to keep him out. He didn't care about the few looks he received as he wobbled through the streets of the Brentwood Estate. It was a very classy estate and well, he certainly brought it down a lot but he didn't give a shit, why would he?
It wasn't late by the time he got home, he figured around eight, but Madeline would be in bed, or at least she should be if Jamie was doing his new job properly. He fumbled with the door handle and almost toppled into the house before he managed to steady himself. He entered the kitchen and found Jamie in there, not like he was surprised it was his house after all. Dylan really was a sight for sore eyes with his cut lip, black eye, bruised jaw and cut knuckles. And the blood stains on his t-shirt but they were kind of mixed in with a multitude of other stains. He half grunted at Jamie before he pushed past him, reaching for the door of the drinks cupboard and pulling on it roughly a few times. Standing up (albeit slightly wobbly) "You havenn...gone'un locked it 'gain?" He grumbled, his words not the easiest to decipher.
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Post by James Michael Colburn on Dec 21, 2012 23:38:53 GMT -8
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: f9f9f9; border: #4f7e9c solid 10px; width: 450px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;]i've been waking all my life taggedIsh/Belle musemurh notesdeath by raging teen creditstemplate by irish! There was often a time in everyone's lives when they looked back and wondered how they had gotten to the point that they were currently at. For Jamie, that moment had come a little prematurely. He had never liked children... ever. They were loud and demanding and helpless and they never seemed to run out of energy. They asked questions that he didn't want to answer. They required effort to be looked after. They couldn't do anything for themselves. What it boiled down to, really, was that Jamie had never really had a childhood. It was taken from him when he was three, and he'd done a lot of growing up fast. His mom worked, and they weren't in contact with any of the grandparents. She couldn't afford a babysitter or even daycare, so for the most part, he was left to his own devices while she was gone. He'd learned how to tie his shoes, how to read and write, how to prepare himself food and sometimes even clean. Jamie essentially became an adult before he had even hit double digits, so it was hard for him to have the patience to deal with children who were not like him.
So how in the world had this self-proclaimed child hater come to be the foster parent of a seventeen year old with serious issues and a five year old? That was a question that he was still trying to figure out. He still didn't know what had possessed him to step in to stop the authorities that be from throwing them into the foster care system where they would undoubtedly be split up and never see each other again. Before leaving, Lucas had told Jamie to look after Dylan, and Jamie had felt obligated to do so. So when he went to go check on the teen and came to the shocking realization that his mother was quite recently deceased and the police were getting involved... well, it had hit a nerve. Jamie knew what it was like to experience the loss of both of your parents. It hurt, in the deepest part of your body, and it never really went away. He hadn't really even known that Maddy existed when he convinced the CPS agent that he was a suitable home for Dylan, so when she'd asked about Maddy too, he'd not had time to prepare for that and simply said that he had meant both of the Bachmanns.
So now here he was, looking after a five year old, and finding himself wondering if Dylan would make it back or if he'd have to go bail him out of jail. Somewhere in there, he was even perhaps a little concerned. They had grown on him, really, and he knew that if Dylan were to get arrested and the Child Protective Services were to say that it was because Jamie was either enabling or not doing enough to prevent Dylan from drinking and doing other stupid things like getting into fights... he didn't doubt that they would pluck them right out and send them off to God knows where. He'd heard all the horror stories about the foster care system. His research into it had turned up with mostly just horrible tales of families being split up, abuse, neglect, and all other manners of horrible things. He just couldn't let that happen.
He had convinced Maddy to go to bed just a short while ago and made his way to the kitchen to get in a few hours of work without the little girl hanging off of him and interrupting his train of thought every ten seconds. Jamie was most definitely not a night owl and was pretty well always asleep by 10:00, and before taking on the responsibility of a child, he normally slept in until noon, and got up no earlier than 10:00. Now, though, he was having to get up much earlier to take care of her needs, which meant he generally liked to go to bed earlier. He could hardly function on anything less than 12 hours of sleep, and he had always been that way. But tonight, he had a feeling that he should, perhaps, wait up for Dylan to come home... so long as he got there before 10.
He had just sat down at the counter and started to look over the script he was currently in the middle of revising when the door opened and an incredibly tipsy teen walked in. Half the time Jamie wondered how Dylan even found his way home every night. He figured that he must have been like a pigeon, tiny little brain, but a great sense of direction. Of course, the first thing Dylan did was stumble to the liquor cabinet and start trying to get it open, though apparently in his drunken state, even that was too much for him. Jamie couldn't help but notice the bruises and the blood, but by this point he was beginning to expect it. "It's not locked, you're just too drunk to get it open. It's drunk proof." Jamie said, shaking his head at Dylan's inability to even speak clearly, "Why don't you have a cup of coffee instead. You need it... and a shower. While you're at it, have one of those too." It really was a wonder that the two of them got along at all. They were both as stubborn as mules, and more often than not, Jamie found himself standing precariously on the edge of simply infuriating Dylan and getting himself strangled by the teen. It was a delicate balance, and there was nothing Jamie enjoyed more than testing the limits of delicate balances. He'd probably get himself killed one day soon.
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Post by dylan on Dec 22, 2012 18:13:06 GMT -8
Dylan was definitely what you would call a problem child, he hadn't always been, not at all. Only recently had he started behaving like he was, but then you could hardly blame him for turning his back to the world. Because the world had been forgetting that he existed as of late. He didn't want pity, or sympathy or even worse, therapy. He just wanted things to stop, he didn't think it could get worse but now he realised there was always a way to sink lower, even if he didn't know what that was, there had to be something. He felt like he had hit rock bottom but knowing his luck he was probably nowhere even near it yet, which might have sounded a little pessimistic coming from somebody else. But it would have to be a rather stupid and ignorant move for somebody to tell Dylan to look on the bright side or to be more optimistic.
He was currently living in hell, at least emotionally. Physically he'd never lived anywhere like it, the big house with all its shiny gadgets and big sofa. Big bed too. He'd gotten so used to sharing a broken fold out sofa bed with his brother that he had totally forgotten how normal people slept at night. And the house was much bigger than the trailer he had been living in until recently of course. In fact, his room alone was probably bigger than the trailer. He realised he hadn't exactly been thankful to Jamie, not yet anyway, he was too busy despairing and getting drunk to get all soppy about it. Especially to someone like Jamie who probably wouldn't even appreciate the gesture of Dylan saying thank you.
Glaring at Jamie when he mentioned something about being to drunk, he ended up just grunting in reply (kind of proving Jamie's point but not taking anything in). He didn't really care right now, he simply gave no shits whatsoever. All he wanted was another beer to get him off to sleep and maybe fake watch some shit television as a disguise so that he could mull over the disaster his life had become. He did that often now, turn on the TV and not watch it, just drift off into space, thinking. Sometimes he would forget he was supposed to be pretending to watch the TV and have to reposition his head or at least move his gaze so that he was at least looking in the right direction. He was hoping it was fooling Jamie and he figured it probably was, after all he didn't want Jamie to think he was going all mushy all of a sudden. Dylan was tough, manly, he didn't need anybody else and he certainly didn't need to think about the people who had abandoned him.
"Fuck...you." It was almost a growl that escaped his throat at Jamie's next words, but he was far too drunk to swing for him and so instead tried for the cupboard again. His second attempt failed too, along with his third and he swiftly gave up after that. Jamie had clearly done something to it. Grumbling, he slumped himself down on the seat across from Jamie, running his hands through his hair before sighing, defeated. "Fine an Irish...coffee." It was a long shot, trying to get Jamie to put alcohol in his drink, but in his drunken state he felt that it might just work. But it wasn't going to. What Dylan needed, was to have this coffee (with no celtic twist to it) and then go straight to bed, despite the time. But he was far too stubborn for that, both of them were as stubborn as each other.
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Post by James Michael Colburn on Dec 29, 2012 23:05:02 GMT -8
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: f9f9f9; border: #4f7e9c solid 10px; width: 450px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;]i've been waking all my life taggedIsh/Belle musemurh notesdeath by raging teen creditstemplate by irish! It was times like these, in Jamie's life, when he really questioned his decision making. He was quite possibly the least qualified person alive to become a foster parents to a very troubled teen and a five year old. His level of responsibility was extremely low, and that put him on nearly the same level as Dylan. Were it not for his rather immense wealth, there probably would have been absolutely no benefit to Dylan and Maddy to go live with him as opposed to foster care. he knew he wasn't a good role model. He drank and swore like a sailor. He went through more women in a week than most would care to in a month. He thrived off of making people as miserable as he was, and he had absolutely no parenting practice. By all standards, he was quite possibly the worst candidate for parenting in the city.. and yet here he was... child locking the liquor cabinet. What had the world come to?
He just smirked in amusement at Dylan's response to what he'd said. The two of them really did clash personality wise an awful lot... plus, Jamie was still failing to figure out how exactly to go about being responsible for someone else's life, so they had a lot to overcome if they were going to survive in the same house for the next year at least until Dylan turned 18. Once he was 18, he was free to do whatever the hell he wanted, but it would be another 12 years before Maddy could be off on her own, and Jamie had a feeling that even though Dylan acted like he didn't care, he wouldn't really be able to leave Maddy behind... which meant that he was likely to be in this position for a long time. Even though Maddy had grown on him, he still didn't like thinking about the fact that he was now responsible for a life other than his own.
Jamie was about to go back to work on his paper when Dylan piped up as if he was ordering coffee at a coffee shop. He raised an eyebrow quizzically. He wasn't quite sure if Dylan was serious or not, and he needed to figure that out before he did anything. After a brief moment of silence passed and it became quite obvious that Dylan fully expected Jamie to get the coffee for him, Jamie just sighed and shook his head. Dylan was probably too drunk to push the two buttons on the counter top and put the cup in the right place, so he supposed he'd have to do that for him. "I think you've had more than your fair share of alcohol Dylan." He said, pressing the button for a regular coffee... strong... and very black. "You'll thank me in the morning when your hangover simply knocks you flat on your ass rather than splitting your head in two and you only spend half the day unable to stand up without vomiting rather than the whole day."
Really, Jamie knew that Dylan wouldn't thank him. He knew that no matter how he felt in the morning he would be just as bitter as he was that night. He knew that he would repeat the process as soon as he was able to stand on his own two feet. He knew because he'd been there. He had literally done all of this, and if he was really honest with himself, he still was. He knew how Dylan felt... the abandonment, the excruciating pain that never went away no matter how you tried to deny it, drown it, and otherwise destroy it. He still wasn't over it... not really, not completely. He hadn't seen what remained of his fragmented family in years. He rarely even spoke to them unless he absolutely had to. Jamie was still running from the hurt he felt when his mom had died, but no matter how far he ran, it was still right there with him.
It took all of two minutes for Dylan's coffee to brew, and Jamie slid it across the counter to him after removing it from the coffee maker. If it had been anyone else, Jamie most likely would have just let them suffer or make their own coffee. Maybe he was catering to Dylan because he knew what it was like, and when he'd been that way, everyone had just let him be... and look how that had worked out for him. He was bitter and angry and alone. As much as Dylan pushed him away, he knew that now, more than ever, he needed someone to push right back and force their way into his life. Jamie hardly even realized that pushing back was exactly what he was doing. Caring was not usually in his nature, and it took something pretty special for Jamie to actually put effort into being involved in someone's life.
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Post by dylan on Jan 6, 2013 16:31:16 GMT -8
Dylan couldn't help but snort when Jamie told him he'd had his fill of alcohol. Dylan could decide that for himself, and he was certainly not done yet, well at least he hadn't passed out yet so in his books that meant he could keep going until he did. But he knew there was no point arguing with Jamie, at least not while he was in this state. If he hadn't been so inebriated then he would have been his normal stubborn self, but seeing as he couldn't string a sentence together he thought better of it. He'd just have a coffee now...and then start on the drink again later. Or maybe have a nap and then continue. Then again he was about to have a coffee so he felt that that plan wouldn't quite work the way he wanted it to.
He glanced up at Jamie when he started speaking again, his words taking time to make their way through his thick skull, thickened by the drink. By the time he had processed what he said Jamie had his back turned to him, sorting the coffee out for him presumably. But what he had said disgruntled him. When did Jamie start caring about whether he had a hangover or not? He certainly never mentioned anything like it before and he certainly never seemed to give a crap whether it was a particularly bad one or not. Well, he often complained about the stench coming from the bathroom when Dylan had been vomiting all day because of the hangover. But that was hardly the same thing.
“Since when did you start giving a shit?” He growled, glaring at him for a little longer before resting his forehead in the palm of one of his hands. He didn’t know how long he was going to be able to live here for it was already more painful than he expected it to be. Maddy liked it here and she liked Jamie which he guessed was at least one good thing, but other than that. At least Jamie let him do what he liked, when he liked and didn’t pick him up on anything. It wasn’t exactly what he needed right now, he needed the exact opposite in fact but he wasn’t about to admit that now, not to anybody.
Without thanking Jamie, he took the cup of coffee and sipped at it. Pulling a face he set it right back down again, making a noise of displeasure as he did so. For one it was hot and secondly it was disgusting and was far too strong for his liking. It definitely gave his senses a little bit of a kick, despite the temperature and the awful taste he picked it up to take another sip. He could already feel it working after all. He was about to say something else but then somebody caught his eye at the entrance of the kitchen. There Maddy was stood, hugging her teddy bear tight to her chest and looking incredibly sleepy. Dylan automatically looked to Jamie, glaring at him once more, wondering why his little sister wasn’t in bed yet. “Jammy, I can’t sleep. Can I have some milk please?” She asked sweetly as she stepped towards Jamie, wrapping a hand around the hem of his shirt whilst Dylan watched but refrained from saying anything.
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Post by James Michael Colburn on Jan 22, 2013 22:00:21 GMT -8
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: f9f9f9; border: #4f7e9c solid 10px; width: 450px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;]i've been waking all my life taggedDonte/Dyl musemurh notesJamie is not a good pretend dad creditstemplate by irish! Jamie was really definitely in over his head. He had absolutely no idea what he was doing when it came to children. With Dylan he did alright, considering the teen was old enough to take care of himself for the most part and all he really did was drink. Granted, Jamie could stand to set a few parameters like not letting him drink underage... or at least limit the amount that he let him consume, but the way he saw it, he had no place telling Dylan that he couldn't drink when he himself was a borderline alcoholic. He couldn't preach the "do as I say not what I do," mostly because he'd always hated it when people did that, and also because he knew Dylan would never go for that and would just snap back at him. Jamie was definitely not a role model for anyone.
When it came to Maddy, it was an entirely different story. Jamie was awful with children. He had absolutely no idea what to do with them. He was an incredibly smart guy, but when it came to "parenting sense" Jamie had none. Initially, he had absolutely no idea that Maddy even existed. His promise to Lucas had been to look after Dylan, he'd said nothing about the five year old... but it turned out that Dylan was a package deal with Maddy, so he had a little reluctantly agreed to take her too. Really it wasn't so bad, Maddy seemed to be pretty used to being on her own a bit. She still harassed Jamie on a regular basis, interrupting meetings and phone calls, waking him up at the break of dawn, crawling into bed with him, and all of the other things five year olds did regularly. He was in over his head, by a lot. Jamie had managed to stay alive so far, but every day he felt like it was a struggle, especially on days when she cried... he had no idea what to do with a crying toddler.
He was just about to tell Dylan that he started caring when Dylan started drinking him out of house and bank account, which probably wouldn't have gone over well with Dylan, when he was saved by the bell. The bell being Maddy, of course. He turned towards the little girl, figuring he could deal with Dylan later... or just let it be where it was. He was fairly sure that nothing he told Dylan was going to make a difference anyway. "Of course you can Maddy," He said, just shaking his head at Dylan's scowl, "but then you have to go back to bed when you're done, okay?" He had found that bargaining with the child usually tended to yield the best results. Sure, maybe that was bad parenting, but he wasn't really a parent, and he wasn't good at acting like he was either, so he was just going to do what worked best for him and the most quickly. Typically Jamie didn't have time to deal with a temper tantrum, so there was a lot of "if you stop crying we can go get ice cream later" going on these days. He was quite sure that if Dylan knew he'd have some choice words for Jamie, but Dylan was too busy off getting drunk most of the time to even notice his little sister anymore, so Jamie figured he was safe... for now.
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Post by dylan on Feb 1, 2013 8:33:47 GMT -8
[/style][style=width:360px; background: #343333] [style=font-family: georgia; font-size: 20px; letter-spacing: 2px; color: #ffffff; text-align: center;]UNDER A PALE BLUE SKY you never felt so cold, another sleepless night, how could you ever let go He wasn't surprised when Jamie didn't answer his question for one, Maddy had just walked into the room and it would have been inappropriate to start a full blown argument with her there. And secondly. Well secondly Dylan didn't think Jamie actually had an answer to that because he didn't think that he really did care. Sure he cared about the mess he was making in his house or how bad this would look on him as a person or how bad it would seem to any girl he brought home. But he didn't actually care about him as a person, as far as Dylan was concerned Jamie wanted him gone as soon as possible and that was his plan.
If he could get his shit together.
While Jamie was dealing with Maddy, Dylan groaned and dropped his head to the table, he could carry on his snarking at Jamie when his little sister had gone back to bed. But he knew, from experience, a glass of milk wasn't going to persuade her to do so. She could be trouble he knew that, especially when she felt like she wasn't getting a sufficient amount of attention. Which, after recent events, was probably true, well he certainly wasn't paying much mind to her at the moment. But at least she was getting some from Jamie, she could annoy him all she liked, Dylan didn't care. Jamie had felt like he could handle it by taking them on, so he could do just that.
Maddy nodded and waited for Jamie to pour her a drink, all the while keeping her hand wrapped tightly around the bottom of his shirt. She followed him the couple of steps to the fridge and then back to the counter because she was pretty determined to stay attached to him. Only when he handed her the plastic cup of milk did she let go of him and take it with both tiny hands. "Thanks." After a couple of sips she looked back up at Jamie, a worried expression on her face. "There's monsters under my bed too." She stated before taking another sip. "And one in the closet." Dylan had heard this and knew exactly what to do in order to get her back into bed, it was silly but it worked. Although he wasn't sure how much longer it would work for, his little sister was getting clever.
"You need the magic monster spray." He managed to mumble without even picking his head off of the table. Well. He wasn't going to be the one doing it.
OUTFIT: nada NOTES: awhh [/style]
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