themathisoncollective

[themathisoncollective]

Howdy folks. 

So I’ve been here doing wtnv rp since about 2012, which is a long time! And it’s always been nothing but fun! But over the last year or two, activity’s been drying up. Almost no one remains of the once-large community I spent so many years writing with, and while I see there are many new people joining us, I’ve been repeatedly running into the problem of plotting with new people and starting threads only to be left hanging for months at a time. 

There are a handful of folk still around who I also write with elsewhere, but it’s because I write with them elsewhere that I’m considering archiving and deactivating all my rp blogs. I’m putting in more effort than I’m getting back, and it’s losing its fun. More and more I’m considering taking my OCs who I write here and giving them their own longform projects. I might set up a writeblr to keep y’all updated on what I’m working on, and if that’s the case, I’ll give you a chance to follow it before I disappear into the ether.  That said: I’m still willing to finish threads in progress, but I need to know you’re going to commit to doing that! Shoot me a message here, discord, anywhere we talk, and we’ll figure out what we want to wrap up and try to make that happen! 

#ooc #psa

[themathisoncollective]

So RP Thread Tracker is shutting down. This is extremely sad.  First of all, if any of you use a different thread tracker, please please link me to it, I’m desperate. 

Secondly, I have over 40 active threads across all my blogs. There is no possible way for me to keep track of them all on my own, so this is what’s happening: any thread that hasn’t moved in a year or more will be archived and dropped at the end of this week. 

I know we’ve all been having a rough time of things and I’ve typically been happy to resurrect old threads, but there’s just too much y’all. If you want to keep such an old thread alive, either respond to it this week or send me a message about it! 

#ooc #psa

[themathisoncollective]

We are Ikea and we want you!

Last time someone showed up talking like that, my whole town got taken over, so maybe don’t do that and I won’t have to retaliate? 

#Anonymous

[themathisoncollective]

paintinthebluffs​:

themathisoncollective​:

“Yeah, he was here,” Jim reassured her quietly. He laughed awkwardly. “And he was weirdly nice about me threatening him, so uh. That’s. That’s good.”

“You were protecting me from a stranger, of course he’d be appreciate that.”

she looked back to the door. “I can’t believe it. He’s back, I can’t believe it.”

Jim took a deep breath to steady his own nerves, then gently tugged Melanie against his side so he could wrap an arm around her. “Yeah. I’m real happy for you.” 

a modest exhibition

and just like that, the day arrived.

there were enough things to finish that day to keep Melanie occupied and her nerves at bay, but there were moments—first thing that morning, while Lucy's friend Kinsey helped with her hair, the drive over. but all the people helping, today and in preparation, were reassuring, and Finch stayed by her side most of the day. she had all these people—she wasn't doing this alone.

she and Finch had decided not to arrive too early, to avoid making a singular entrance. so by the time they arrived, the Burkhardt Atrium at the headquarters of Strexcorp Synernists, Inc. was buzzing with Desert Bluffs' artistic finest, artist and admirer alike. the place glowed in the setting sun with their finery, an elegancr like that of a finely filigreed butterfly knife.

into this gold and white glow came Melanie—dressed in hellanistic simplicity and arsenic green; Genya's chickadee perching just above the neckline; Liza's flower in the center of the bun sweeping up half of her hair—and Finch beside her. she took his hand and looked to him.

#a modest exhibition

[themathisoncollective]

paintinthebluffs​:

themathisoncollective​:

“I’ll keep you updated,” Ramirez promised. “And I’ll keep an eye out for anything suspicious. I don’t anticipate trouble, but it’s better to be safe.” Jim nodded, taking Melanie’s hand and holding on tight. “Could you, um, send Sheila over?” he asked. “She knows the way.” Ramirez’s smile softened. “Of course, mijo.” She turned to Oscar and nodded. “Shall we?”

“Lead the way.”

Melanie let go of Finch’s hand for one more moment as she and Oscar hugged tightly. “G'night, Dad.”

“Night, sunshine.”

and with that, Oscar followed Ramirez out of the apartment.

Melanie stared at the door, transfixed, as she sat back on the couch with Finch. “That was my dad,” she said, almost a whisper, then she squeezed Finch’s hand and looked to him. “He was here, right? It wasn’t just me?”

“Yeah, he was here,” Jim reassured her quietly. He laughed awkwardly. “And he was weirdly nice about me threatening him, so uh. That’s. That’s good.”

a modest exhibition

and just like that, the day arrived.

there were enough things to finish that day to keep Melanie occupied and her nerves at bay, but there were moments—first thing that morning, while Lucy's friend Kinsey helped with her hair, the drive over. but all the people helping, today and in preparation, were reassuring, and Finch stayed by her side most of the day. she had all these people—she wasn't doing this alone.

she and Finch had decided not to arrive too early, to avoid making a singular entrance. so by the time they arrived, the Burkhardt Atrium at the headquarters of Strexcorp Synernists, Inc. was buzzing with Desert Bluffs' artistic finest, artist and admirer alike. the place glowed in the setting sun with their finery, an elegancr like that of a finely filigreed butterfly knife.

into this gold and white glow came Melanie—dressed in hellanistic simplicity and arsenic green; Genya's chickadee perching just above the neckline; Liza's flower in the center of the bun sweeping up half of her hair—and Finch beside her. she took his hand and looked to him.

#a modest exhibition

[themathisoncollective]

paintinthebluffs​:

themathisoncollective​:

The absence of Melanie’s hand in his left Jim feeling even more unmoored in this happy but entirely unexpected situation. He dealt with it by taking out his phone to text Ramirez the plan.  It didn’t take her long to pop back in, knocking before she opened the door. “I hear we’re using the safe house after all?”

Melanie nodded. “Dad’s going to stay there tonight.” still she was reluctant to let go of Oscar’s hands.

“We’ll start catching up tomorrow.” he squeezed her fingers and slowly stood them both up.

Melanie nodded again, and finally let go—immediately she reached back for Finch’s. “Let us know when you’re settled,” she said, looking to both Oscar and Lupita.

“I’ll keep you updated,” Ramirez promised. “And I’ll keep an eye out for anything suspicious. I don’t anticipate trouble, but it’s better to be safe.” Jim nodded, taking Melanie’s hand and holding on tight. “Could you, um, send Sheila over?” he asked. “She knows the way.” Ramirez’s smile softened. “Of course, mijo.” She turned to Oscar and nodded. “Shall we?”

a modest exhibition

and just like that, the day arrived.

there were enough things to finish that day to keep Melanie occupied and her nerves at bay, but there were moments—first thing that morning, while Lucy's friend Kinsey helped with her hair, the drive over. but all the people helping, today and in preparation, were reassuring, and Finch stayed by her side most of the day. she had all these people—she wasn't doing this alone.

she and Finch had decided not to arrive too early, to avoid making a singular entrance. so by the time they arrived, the Burkhardt Atrium at the headquarters of Strexcorp Synernists, Inc. was buzzing with Desert Bluffs' artistic finest, artist and admirer alike. the place glowed in the setting sun with their finery, an elegancr like that of a finely filigreed butterfly knife.

into this gold and white glow came Melanie—dressed in hellanistic simplicity and arsenic green; Genya's chickadee perching just above the neckline; Liza's flower in the center of the bun sweeping up half of her hair—and Finch beside her. she took his hand and looked to him.

#a modest exhibition

[themathisoncollective]

paintinthebluffs​:

themathisoncollective​:

“Over on–on Maple,” Jim answered. “A little more, um. In town, than here, but a mostly empty part. We could show you, or–or Ramirez, she knows where.”

Oscar nodded. “If she doesn’t mind, that would be a great help.”

“She won’t mind—that’s what Ms Lupita is here for tonight.”

with a small squeeze she let go of Finch’s hand, and reached to take Oscar’s. she still couldn’t believe he was right here, and was nervous that he might vanish again once he let go.

“We’ll have plenty of time to talk,” said Oscar with a small smile. “Let’s make sure everyone’s safe, first.”

The absence of Melanie’s hand in his left Jim feeling even more unmoored in this happy but entirely unexpected situation. He dealt with it by taking out his phone to text Ramirez the plan.  It didn’t take her long to pop back in, knocking before she opened the door. “I hear we’re using the safe house after all?”

a modest exhibition

and just like that, the day arrived.

there were enough things to finish that day to keep Melanie occupied and her nerves at bay, but there were moments—first thing that morning, while Lucy's friend Kinsey helped with her hair, the drive over. but all the people helping, today and in preparation, were reassuring, and Finch stayed by her side most of the day. she had all these people—she wasn't doing this alone.

she and Finch had decided not to arrive too early, to avoid making a singular entrance. so by the time they arrived, the Burkhardt Atrium at the headquarters of Strexcorp Synernists, Inc. was buzzing with Desert Bluffs' artistic finest, artist and admirer alike. the place glowed in the setting sun with their finery, an elegancr like that of a finely filigreed butterfly knife.

into this gold and white glow came Melanie—dressed in hellanistic simplicity and arsenic green; Genya's chickadee perching just above the neckline; Liza's flower in the center of the bun sweeping up half of her hair—and Finch beside her. she took his hand and looked to him.

#a modest exhibition

[themathisoncollective]

paintinthebluffs​:

themathisoncollective​:

“Yeah, um, yeah.” Jim took a moment to think about his words, to order them in the right way, in the hopes they’d come out better. “I’m, uh, good with computers? I can get into their systems, get info. And, um. We have a–a place to go, to hide if it’s needed. You could use that, it’s um. Not too far.”

Oscar straightened up. “If it’s not an imposition, that hiding place would probably be helpful in the short term.”

“We had it ready for tonight anyway,” Melanie offered. “And Finch is very good with computer-things, we’ll be able to figure something out there, too.”

“Excellent, thank you.” he looked between them. “How far off is it?”

“Over on--on Maple,” Jim answered. “A little more, um. In town, than here, but a mostly empty part. We could show you, or--or Ramirez, she knows where.”

a modest exhibition

and just like that, the day arrived.

there were enough things to finish that day to keep Melanie occupied and her nerves at bay, but there were moments—first thing that morning, while Lucy's friend Kinsey helped with her hair, the drive over. but all the people helping, today and in preparation, were reassuring, and Finch stayed by her side most of the day. she had all these people—she wasn't doing this alone.

she and Finch had decided not to arrive too early, to avoid making a singular entrance. so by the time they arrived, the Burkhardt Atrium at the headquarters of Strexcorp Synernists, Inc. was buzzing with Desert Bluffs' artistic finest, artist and admirer alike. the place glowed in the setting sun with their finery, an elegancr like that of a finely filigreed butterfly knife.

into this gold and white glow came Melanie—dressed in hellanistic simplicity and arsenic green; Genya's chickadee perching just above the neckline; Liza's flower in the center of the bun sweeping up half of her hair—and Finch beside her. she took his hand and looked to him.

#a modest exhibition

[themathisoncollective]

paintinthebluffs​:

themathisoncollective​:

Jim reached for Melanie’s hand, both to offer support and to help keep himself grounded. “It’s, um. Much safer now. Not–not entirely, but. A lot better.”

she took Finch’s hand and gently squeezed it.

“Good, that’s good to hear,” said Oscar.

“Is that something you have to worry about?” Melanie asked, her voice a bit smaller.

Oscar sighed. “It might be. I’d actually thought your friend was one of Their ilk, but I don’t know what the situation is.” he took off his glasses and ran a hand through his hair. “It seems a bit foolish of me, to be so unprepared.”

Melanie squeezed Finch’s hand again and glanced to him. “We might be able to help with that.”

“Yeah, um, yeah.” Jim took a moment to think about his words, to order them in the right way, in the hopes they’d come out better. “I’m, uh, good with computers? I can get into their systems, get info. And, um. We have a--a place to go, to hide if it’s needed. You could use that, it’s um. Not too far.”

a modest exhibition

and just like that, the day arrived.

there were enough things to finish that day to keep Melanie occupied and her nerves at bay, but there were moments—first thing that morning, while Lucy's friend Kinsey helped with her hair, the drive over. but all the people helping, today and in preparation, were reassuring, and Finch stayed by her side most of the day. she had all these people—she wasn't doing this alone.

she and Finch had decided not to arrive too early, to avoid making a singular entrance. so by the time they arrived, the Burkhardt Atrium at the headquarters of Strexcorp Synernists, Inc. was buzzing with Desert Bluffs' artistic finest, artist and admirer alike. the place glowed in the setting sun with their finery, an elegancr like that of a finely filigreed butterfly knife.

into this gold and white glow came Melanie—dressed in hellanistic simplicity and arsenic green; Genya's chickadee perching just above the neckline; Liza's flower in the center of the bun sweeping up half of her hair—and Finch beside her. she took his hand and looked to him.

#a modest exhibition

[themathisoncollective]

paintinthebluffs​:

themathisoncollective​:

That got a little smile out of Jim. [New people are hard,] he admitted sheepishly. [I’ll be okay, you don’t have to worry about me.] 

He took a deep breath, and then took a seat, holding himself quite small but determined to be present. “So, um, welcome–welcome back?” he hazarded, glancing towards Oscar. “Pi–pipit’s told me, um, lots about you.”

Oscar smiled. “Good things, I hope?”

“Of course.” Melanie hugged him again, then waved for him to sit as she joined Finch on the couch. “What are you doing here?”

“I had to come back,” he replied. “I couldn’t bear not knowing what had happened to you. So the people who helped me leave helped me come back.

Jim reached for Melanie’s hand, both to offer support and to help keep himself grounded. “It’s, um. Much safer now. Not--not entirely, but. A lot better.”

a modest exhibition

and just like that, the day arrived.

there were enough things to finish that day to keep Melanie occupied and her nerves at bay, but there were moments—first thing that morning, while Lucy's friend Kinsey helped with her hair, the drive over. but all the people helping, today and in preparation, were reassuring, and Finch stayed by her side most of the day. she had all these people—she wasn't doing this alone.

she and Finch had decided not to arrive too early, to avoid making a singular entrance. so by the time they arrived, the Burkhardt Atrium at the headquarters of Strexcorp Synernists, Inc. was buzzing with Desert Bluffs' artistic finest, artist and admirer alike. the place glowed in the setting sun with their finery, an elegancr like that of a finely filigreed butterfly knife.

into this gold and white glow came Melanie—dressed in hellanistic simplicity and arsenic green; Genya's chickadee perching just above the neckline; Liza's flower in the center of the bun sweeping up half of her hair—and Finch beside her. she took his hand and looked to him.

#a modest exhibition

[themathisoncollective]

paintinthebluffs​:

themathisoncollective​:

Ramirez did her own circuit of the inside of the apartment, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious, before excusing herself to keep watch outside. This left Jim standing awkwardly in the living room, watching Oscar from the corner of his eye. 

It wasn’t until Melanie’s question that it occurred to him that he didn’t have to keep standing around in that awful tuxedo. [Yes, that’s a great idea.] Thankfully he’d taken to keeping a couple changes of clothes here, and so he took his own turn and emerged back into the living room a few moments later clad in worn jeans and the bright yellow hoodie covered in bird-related patches that was a personal favorite. The hood was pulled up over his head, which helped, but it still left him feeling more than a little awkward when faced with Melanie’s dad.

[It’s okay,] she reassured him. [You were protecting me, that’s important to him. And he’s kind of new to me, too, so I’m nervous, too.]

That got a little smile out of Jim. [New people are hard,] he admitted sheepishly. [I’ll be okay, you don’t have to worry about me.] 

He took a deep breath, and then took a seat, holding himself quite small but determined to be present. “So, um, welcome--welcome back?” he hazarded, glancing towards Oscar. “Pi--pipit’s told me, um, lots about you.”

a modest exhibition

and just like that, the day arrived.

there were enough things to finish that day to keep Melanie occupied and her nerves at bay, but there were moments—first thing that morning, while Lucy's friend Kinsey helped with her hair, the drive over. but all the people helping, today and in preparation, were reassuring, and Finch stayed by her side most of the day. she had all these people—she wasn't doing this alone.

she and Finch had decided not to arrive too early, to avoid making a singular entrance. so by the time they arrived, the Burkhardt Atrium at the headquarters of Strexcorp Synernists, Inc. was buzzing with Desert Bluffs' artistic finest, artist and admirer alike. the place glowed in the setting sun with their finery, an elegancr like that of a finely filigreed butterfly knife.

into this gold and white glow came Melanie—dressed in hellanistic simplicity and arsenic green; Genya's chickadee perching just above the neckline; Liza's flower in the center of the bun sweeping up half of her hair—and Finch beside her. she took his hand and looked to him.

#a modest exhibition

[themathisoncollective]

paintinthebluffs​:

themathisoncollective​:

“That sounds like a great idea,” Ramirez chimed in. She stepped over to Jim to take him by the shoulders and march him gently back out of the shop. “It’s been quite a day for all of us.”

“I can imagine.”

the four of them rounded the corner back to Melanie’s building. Melanie darted in to brush off the chair in front of the kitchen, waved Oscar in, then flit into her room to change.

Oscar, though, took a moment to look around the living room—almost exactly the same as how he’d left it all those years ago. the rotation of art was new, of course, and of course Melanie had only gotten more skilled.

once she had changed she ducked her head in to see that Jim was comfortable. [Change of clothes better?]

Ramirez did her own circuit of the inside of the apartment, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious, before excusing herself to keep watch outside. This left Jim standing awkwardly in the living room, watching Oscar from the corner of his eye. 

It wasn’t until Melanie’s question that it occurred to him that he didn’t have to keep standing around in that awful tuxedo. [Yes, that’s a great idea.] Thankfully he’d taken to keeping a couple changes of clothes here, and so he took his own turn and emerged back into the living room a few moments later clad in worn jeans and the bright yellow hoodie covered in bird-related patches that was a personal favorite. The hood was pulled up over his head, which helped, but it still left him feeling more than a little awkward when faced with Melanie’s dad.

a modest exhibition

and just like that, the day arrived.

there were enough things to finish that day to keep Melanie occupied and her nerves at bay, but there were moments—first thing that morning, while Lucy's friend Kinsey helped with her hair, the drive over. but all the people helping, today and in preparation, were reassuring, and Finch stayed by her side most of the day. she had all these people—she wasn't doing this alone.

she and Finch had decided not to arrive too early, to avoid making a singular entrance. so by the time they arrived, the Burkhardt Atrium at the headquarters of Strexcorp Synernists, Inc. was buzzing with Desert Bluffs' artistic finest, artist and admirer alike. the place glowed in the setting sun with their finery, an elegancr like that of a finely filigreed butterfly knife.

into this gold and white glow came Melanie—dressed in hellanistic simplicity and arsenic green; Genya's chickadee perching just above the neckline; Liza's flower in the center of the bun sweeping up half of her hair—and Finch beside her. she took his hand and looked to him.

#a modest exhibition

[themathisoncollective]

paintinthebluffs​:

themathisoncollective​:

“Um, yeah.” Oscar’s reassurance did little to alleviate Jim’s discomfort. He glanced at Melanie, uncertain. 

with a little smile she offered a thumbs-up on her other hand—[I help you.]

“Let’s go back home,” she suggested, “we can be a bit more comfortable.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” Ramirez chimed in. She stepped over to Jim to take him by the shoulders and march him gently back out of the shop. “It’s been quite a day for all of us.”

a modest exhibition

and just like that, the day arrived.

there were enough things to finish that day to keep Melanie occupied and her nerves at bay, but there were moments—first thing that morning, while Lucy's friend Kinsey helped with her hair, the drive over. but all the people helping, today and in preparation, were reassuring, and Finch stayed by her side most of the day. she had all these people—she wasn't doing this alone.

she and Finch had decided not to arrive too early, to avoid making a singular entrance. so by the time they arrived, the Burkhardt Atrium at the headquarters of Strexcorp Synernists, Inc. was buzzing with Desert Bluffs' artistic finest, artist and admirer alike. the place glowed in the setting sun with their finery, an elegancr like that of a finely filigreed butterfly knife.

into this gold and white glow came Melanie—dressed in hellanistic simplicity and arsenic green; Genya's chickadee perching just above the neckline; Liza's flower in the center of the bun sweeping up half of her hair—and Finch beside her. she took his hand and looked to him.

#a modest exhibition

[themathisoncollective]

paintinthebluffs​:

themathisoncollective​:

“Pleasure to meet you,” Ramirez said with a quick nod and a warm smile. “You gave us quite the cause for concern.”

For his part, Jim was far less comfortable with this introduction. He couldn’t meet anyone’s eye, choosing instead to keep his gaze lowered and off to the side. “Um, hi,” he said in a small voice. “I’m, uh, sorry about–about before, I didn’t–didn’t know… “

“No apology necessary,” said Oscar sincerely. “That was absolutely the appropriate response, given the circumstances.” he smiled—even with nerves it was crooked, a bit like Melanie’s. “It’s actually rather reassuring that Mel’s partner would be so protective.”

“Um, yeah.” Oscar’s reassurance did little to alleviate Jim’s discomfort. He glanced at Melanie, uncertain. 

a modest exhibition

and just like that, the day arrived.

there were enough things to finish that day to keep Melanie occupied and her nerves at bay, but there were moments—first thing that morning, while Lucy's friend Kinsey helped with her hair, the drive over. but all the people helping, today and in preparation, were reassuring, and Finch stayed by her side most of the day. she had all these people—she wasn't doing this alone.

she and Finch had decided not to arrive too early, to avoid making a singular entrance. so by the time they arrived, the Burkhardt Atrium at the headquarters of Strexcorp Synernists, Inc. was buzzing with Desert Bluffs' artistic finest, artist and admirer alike. the place glowed in the setting sun with their finery, an elegancr like that of a finely filigreed butterfly knife.

into this gold and white glow came Melanie—dressed in hellanistic simplicity and arsenic green; Genya's chickadee perching just above the neckline; Liza's flower in the center of the bun sweeping up half of her hair—and Finch beside her. she took his hand and looked to him.

#a modest exhibition

[themathisoncollective]

paintinthebluffs​:

themathisoncollective​:

A moment later, the door eased open. Jim poked his head in uncertainly. “Pipit?” 

“Come on in, mijo,” Ramirez called to him. “May as well make a party of this reunion.”

Melanie finally looked up and pulled away, holding her dad’s hand and leading him back to the front. she dabbed at her eyes before she spoke.

“Dad, this is my partner Jim, and our friend Lupita Ramirez. Finch, Ms Lupita—this is my dad, Oscar Doyle.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Ramirez said with a quick nod and a warm smile. “You gave us quite the cause for concern.”

For his part, Jim was far less comfortable with this introduction. He couldn’t meet anyone’s eye, choosing instead to keep his gaze lowered and off to the side. “Um, hi,” he said in a small voice. “I’m, uh, sorry about--about before, I didn’t--didn’t know. . . “

a modest exhibition

and just like that, the day arrived.

there were enough things to finish that day to keep Melanie occupied and her nerves at bay, but there were moments—first thing that morning, while Lucy's friend Kinsey helped with her hair, the drive over. but all the people helping, today and in preparation, were reassuring, and Finch stayed by her side most of the day. she had all these people—she wasn't doing this alone.

she and Finch had decided not to arrive too early, to avoid making a singular entrance. so by the time they arrived, the Burkhardt Atrium at the headquarters of Strexcorp Synernists, Inc. was buzzing with Desert Bluffs' artistic finest, artist and admirer alike. the place glowed in the setting sun with their finery, an elegancr like that of a finely filigreed butterfly knife.

into this gold and white glow came Melanie—dressed in hellanistic simplicity and arsenic green; Genya's chickadee perching just above the neckline; Liza's flower in the center of the bun sweeping up half of her hair—and Finch beside her. she took his hand and looked to him.

#a modest exhibition

[themathisoncollective]

paintinthebluffs​:

themathisoncollective​:

Ramirez watched them for a moment, smile softening, before turning back to the the woman in charge of the store. “See, that’s what I wanted to talk to him about,” she quipped. 

the woman nodded. "Can never be too careful, given their history,” she returned, gesturing to the pair embraced.

A moment later, the door eased open. Jim poked his head in uncertainly. “Pipit?” 

“Come on in, mijo,” Ramirez called to him. “May as well make a party of this reunion.”

a modest exhibition

and just like that, the day arrived.

there were enough things to finish that day to keep Melanie occupied and her nerves at bay, but there were moments—first thing that morning, while Lucy's friend Kinsey helped with her hair, the drive over. but all the people helping, today and in preparation, were reassuring, and Finch stayed by her side most of the day. she had all these people—she wasn't doing this alone.

she and Finch had decided not to arrive too early, to avoid making a singular entrance. so by the time they arrived, the Burkhardt Atrium at the headquarters of Strexcorp Synernists, Inc. was buzzing with Desert Bluffs' artistic finest, artist and admirer alike. the place glowed in the setting sun with their finery, an elegancr like that of a finely filigreed butterfly knife.

into this gold and white glow came Melanie—dressed in hellanistic simplicity and arsenic green; Genya's chickadee perching just above the neckline; Liza's flower in the center of the bun sweeping up half of her hair—and Finch beside her. she took his hand and looked to him.

#a modest exhibition

[themathisoncollective]

paintinthebluffs​:

themathisoncollective​:

Jim stumbled out of the car after Melanie, struggling for a moment to grab his shillelagh, and then went after her as quickly as he could manage.  Inside the shop, Ramirez simply smiled and held up her hands in what she hoped was a disarming fashion. “I know, I know, but a fellow I need to talk to rather urgently came in here and hasn’t come back out.”

“Nobody’s come in here, on account of us being closed,” the woman said flatly as she stood up. “I don’t want nobody making a scene, so if you don’t mind, why don’t you–”

“Dad?” Melanie tumbled through the door, barely catching herself to stop. "Dad, are you–”

“Mel?”

the man who had called himself Seamus Black started to emerge from a back corner, eyes wide in disbelief—then they darted to Ramirez.

“She’s with me,” said Melanie quickly, though her voice felt very far away. the two of them stared at each other, then almost simultaneously started towards each other, weaving around shelving, and met in the middle of the long aisle between sections to tightly embrace each other.

Ramirez watched them for a moment, smile softening, before turning back to the the woman in charge of the store. “See, that’s what I wanted to talk to him about,” she quipped. 

a modest exhibition

and just like that, the day arrived.

there were enough things to finish that day to keep Melanie occupied and her nerves at bay, but there were moments—first thing that morning, while Lucy's friend Kinsey helped with her hair, the drive over. but all the people helping, today and in preparation, were reassuring, and Finch stayed by her side most of the day. she had all these people—she wasn't doing this alone.

she and Finch had decided not to arrive too early, to avoid making a singular entrance. so by the time they arrived, the Burkhardt Atrium at the headquarters of Strexcorp Synernists, Inc. was buzzing with Desert Bluffs' artistic finest, artist and admirer alike. the place glowed in the setting sun with their finery, an elegancr like that of a finely filigreed butterfly knife.

into this gold and white glow came Melanie—dressed in hellanistic simplicity and arsenic green; Genya's chickadee perching just above the neckline; Liza's flower in the center of the bun sweeping up half of her hair—and Finch beside her. she took his hand and looked to him.

#a modest exhibition