but i have promises to keep

This post is going to be a collection of random facts I've dropped in tags about Spencer that help build his character. I'm gathering them all in one place as a reference so I can at least play with a little bit of continuity, hollah~




( butterfly in the skyyyyyy )

He hasn't slept, not really.

Trapped in the warehouse, Spencer had done little else but find an escape within his dreams in between Roman's abuse of him and Davin, and he wishes he could have been a better friend, a stronger friend, one who would force himself to stay awake just so Davin wouldn't have to face a moment of their captivity alone; but he'd failed in that, and he feels so guilty for it that when he spends any time at all thinking on the subject, his stomach turns as hard as it had every time Roman had walked through the door again.

Joel hasn't left his side since they'd been found, ever the compassionate, patient, and caring husband that Spencer loves so much. But it's been four days and the store can't run itself, no matter how many times Joel insists that Spencer's comfort is more important, so he'd made his husband promise to at least check on Crossroads to make sure everything has remained as it should be in the time it's been closed. It'd been with reluctance that Joel had agreed, and Spencer doesn't know why he'd been so adamant about it when really, he never wants to spend another second away from Joel again; but he supposes he'd wanted to feel like he can spend half an hour on his own, he'd wanted to prove to himself that he's not so thoroughly damaged.

Twenty minutes in, he's finding that he's quite wrong. He'd tried to fall asleep--tried--but every time he closes his eyes, he feels the swing of the bat against his shoulder or his ribs or his back. He feels the bat in his hands, remembers the crack of it against Roman's head and sometimes, he's the one holding it when it comes down on Davin's hand. Trying to fall asleep has led only to stress and tears and an anxiety he can't shake without his husband's arms around him, gentle hands soothing him as he's reasssured that he's safe, Davin's safe, that everything had worked out in the end. When his eyes open again this time, he's curled up on the sofa with Huxley at his feet, and he can't quite remember how he'd gotten there but all of a sudden, it seems like an excellent idea to leave the house. Just for a little bit, he thinks, a quick walk around the neighborhood for some fresh air.

He still looks like a mess, the bruises over his eye and jaw a stark contrast from the fairness of his skin, and he's still walking with a slight limp from the pain in his ribs but at the very least, the potions have been helping. His shoulder feels much better now, thanks to what Joel's been giving him, and the more minor cuts and bruises have already healed because Coop had been kind enough to offer his help. In any case, there's no fixing his appearance right now so he clips the leash to Huxley's collar and sends a text to his husband that he's taking the dog out for a bit, just so Joel won't come back to an alarmingly empty house.

It's warm out today, and Spencer appreciates the heat of the sun's rays beating down on him after days of being held in a watery room, clothes constantly damp. He'd thought, at first, that he might have caught a chill from it but a couple days of fever had only left him feeling slightly weaker than he'd already been. He's better on that front now, which he supposes is a good thing, but halfway down the block, Spencer slows to a stop so he can let his head tilt back to enjoy that warmth he'd missed so much.

It's with a promise that he won't let anyone do any 'souping up' of the Jetta that Spencer manages to sneak a kiss to Joel's cheek before laughing his way out of Crossroads. His husband had balked at the idea that his car might need any sort of tuning he hasn't been able to do on his own in the years he's owned it, but Spencer had gently reminded him that Davin is the actual expert when it comes to cars so it's not as if their friend's offer to look it over could possibly hurt. Besides, it wouldn't do to find the car in need of some dire fix the day they're due to take the baby home, so to Oceanside he will go.

The car does, as Joel always says, run impressively smoothly for as old as it is, and Spencer arrives at the auto repair shop without so much as a squeaky window just before noon. He smiles through the windshield when Davin waves him into one of the carports, and he notes that there doesn't seem to be much activity going on for a Saturday afternoon as he steps out of the car with an awkward wave.

"Thank you again," he says, which possibly isn't best greeting he could have mustered up, but the words had been at the tip of his tongue all the same. He still hasn't been able to get past just how many people had shown up for the baby shower and left so many gifts. He knows that neither he nor Joel had expected such an extravagant outpouring of support at a party they'd been resistant to from the beginning but as it turns out, he'll be worrying about carpal tunnel very soon with all the thank you notes he'll be working on in the next few weeks preceding the baby's birth.

"Oh," he adds, rolling his eyes fondly, "my husband says the same and also that he doesn't want me to bring the car home with any fancy modification so if you could refrain from painting flames on the sides, it would be greatly appreciated."

An entire day has already passed, and Spencer is no closer to being used to walking on these legs than he'd been when April had helped him reach the shore. Each step is pure agony and for that alone, he is admittedly relieved that his voice has been taken from him for the time being; but in spite of his fears that Joel would tire of him quickly, that the prince would send him on his way after seeing him fed and clothed, he's been invited to stay in the palace for-- well, for as long as any of the royal family sees fit, he supposes.

Joel had demanded--in as princely a way as possible, of course--that Spencer be seen to, and the workers in the palace had been quick about putting him in a shirt and trousers that he supposes fit him well enough, not that it matters much to him, seeing as he's never had to wear clothes before in the first place. Joel hadn't left his side once, though he'd been very gentlemanly about keeping his back turned while Spencer had been helped into his clothes, and though they hadn't been able to converse, Spencer doesn't think he's ever felt more attended to in his life. The way Joel had looked at him as the evening continued on, as he'd sat across from him at the table while Spencer had been unapologetic about shoveling the stew laid before him into his mouth, is unlike anything he's ever known.

Only the introduction to the king and queen had made him flush terribly, though they'd been nothing but kind to him upon discovering he had been the one to save their son from drowning the day before. Joel's father had laid a gentle hand on his shoulder while his mother had offered a near tearful thanks punctuated with a kiss to his cheek and that had been that before Spencer had been ushered off to a large room with a bed that could certainly fit three of him comfortably on it.

Worse than the pain in his legs had been when the time had come to bid farewell to Joel for the evening, though he'd been assured that if he needed anything, he could call for him anytime. Spencer had slept soundly, though, exhausted from everything that had happened in so short a time, and by the time he'd woken up the next morning, he'd been more than ready to face the day. Now, he's exploring the marketplace, brought here by carriage and equipped with a cane meant to assist him with his walking. Joel had promised to come find him after he'd finished with what Spencer can only assume are his princely duties, though he hasn't the faintest idea what that might entail, but he's content with that for now. He can almost grow numb, in fact, to each sharp jolt that shoots through him with every foot forward as he admires the jewels and fruits and vegetables that are all for sale here, smiling and shaking his head at every merchant who calls out to him.

He has thirteen days left to make being human count for something; but in this moment, Spencer just wants to allow himself the chance to enjoy it the best he can.



[OOC: Open to all!]

It's been a day since he'd... well, changed, and he steps outside of the house with the slightest bit of trepidation. He'd taken some clothes that had belonged to his mother from a box in the attic, which is strange enough in itself, and if it hadn't been for his husband's exceptional support yesterday, Spencer would be feeling significantly more out of place than he does now. It's not that he's used to this body yet, it's only been a day, but he's had the chance to get more familiar with it in the last twenty-four hours and to be entirely honest, it's exactly what he'd needed.

He doesn't quite know where he's going now, he simply picks a direction and starts walking without much purpose because he knows he can't stay in the house until this is over, especially considering he isn't even sure that it ever will be over. He's trying not to think that way, frowning as he picks up a passerby's thoughts of how nice his breasts look in this shirt and trying not to shoot the other man a dirty look, but Spencer knows it's a distinct possibility. Still, hiding isn't the option, he's done enough of that over the last couple years and it'd only been when he'd stepped out in a misguided attempt to face the Hydra that Joel had found him so this is good. Getting out of the house and pushing aside whatever nerves might plague him while he still has these powers and is still in this body is good.

He thinks.



[Find Spencer anywhere in town! He woke up in a woman's body after drinking Ascension so it's a good time for a good time TO SAY HELLO, YA BIG PERVS.]

Spencer had woken up that morning to Huxley licking at his face and nothing but empty space beside him when he'd thrown his arm over where Joel's usually sleeping. It had only taken a moment or two before he'd reached clarity, remembering that it's Christmas before wiping the sleep from his eyes and rolling out of bed so he could wander downstairs with his messy hair and pajamas making him a ridiculous spectacle.

Seeing the kitchen so full of life had been so strange, incredibly surreal because he knows what a busy household during the holidays but despite knowing that Joel's parents would be there, that Charlotte and Raleigh would be there, Spencer had still found himself frozen in place when he'd seen all the happy faces bustling around his home. Joel had noticed him standing there first, as he always has and likely always will, and Spencer had easily fallen into the cheer that had come with sloppy kisses to his cheeks from all the women in the room and even his father-in-law.

Where the kitchen had been warm, Spencer's now freezing cold. He'd gotten considerably quieter as the hours had passed because he'd known what he and Joel were going to leave to do. Ellie had taken him aside at one point, the concern evident in her eyes, and she'd hugged him almost as tightly as Joel knows how to when Spencer had explained that he'd be visiting the cemetery today. They're here now, and it's stranger than he remembers it being the last time. He's wearing one of the awful Christmas sweaters from the box in the attic and the leather jacket Dane had given him for a birthday--the one he'd been wearing for his and Joel's proposed first date, but he's not thinking about that now--but he dons his coat overall and is pressed closely against Joel's side as they stand in front of the two graves in silence.

It had snowed a bit this morning, there's a light blanket of it at their feet, and nobody else is here. Spencer's never seen anyone else here on Christmas Day, and he doesn't know if that's because he just comes at the right time or if nobody else could bear to be here with their late loved ones on a day like today, but he's always glad for it. The idea of sharing his pain with anyone else had always seemed terrible, though with Joel, it's different. With Joel, the company is welcome. Necessary. Needed.

He has the angel tree topper in his pocket, though it's gotten a bit crushed between the house and here, and Spencer tugs it out after another quiet moment so he can rest it in front of his mother's grave. He hesitates, self-conscious for a millisecond until he reminds himself that Joel would never judge him, then reaches out to press his gloved hand against the cold stone. It's so lifeless, the rock, so unlike his mother in every way, and he can feel a lump forming in his throat as he wets his lips to speak.

"Hi, mom," he murmurs, glancing up at Joel before shifting his gaze to his brother's headstone. It always hurts to see the dates, 1987-2012, because god, his brother had been so young. Too young, and it doesn't do any good to think that it isn't fair, but Spencer thinks it all the time anyway. "Hi, Dane. It's me, it's-- It's Spencer. I know I haven't stopped by in awhile, and I'm sorry about that, I've just been... really busy. Can you believe that? Me, busy, but it's true, I promise. I even brought someone with me this time."

Spencer looks back at his husband with a small, tentative smile. He doesn't expect Joel to say anything, of course he doesn't, and he knows just as well that talking out loud to his dead family doesn't mean a thing in the grand scheme of things; but it makes him feel better. It makes him feel like he's doing his part in keeping their memory alive. "This is Joel," he continues, reaching out for his husband's hand and keeping his eyes trained on him. "He's my husband, and we wanted to come by to say Merry Christmas."

Hey, guys, I've been bitching and moaning about this on Twitter so you might know already but I've been having a lot of trouble getting solid sleep lately. Because of that, along with stress from work and other personal things that have me a bit on edge and probably shark week on its way, I've also had a hard time getting my brain to work lately.

I've managed to pick at a few tags here and there this week but I pretty much eat dinner and fall asleep when I get home from work because I don't have the energy for anything else. Hopefully that will change this weekend but if I owe you tags and you're wondering why I'm not getting to them, this is your answer.

That being said, I would love to come up with any threads you might want to do with my dumb boys so feel free to hit me up with ideas. I'll be having Coop throw a bonfire on the beach hosting a giant orgy during the blackout so if you'd like to come across that little shindig, he's always happy for the company RSVP stat.

Thanks, all <3 <3 <3

I, too, am going on a brief hiatus starting tomorrow. I'll probably end up doing tags on my 382950238523905238523 hour flights, but I doubt I'll get to tags while I'm actually in NYC. Maybe if I'm super wired and everyone else is asleep XD

As for my characters, Spencer will just be doing what he does and also being a little ~concerned because his boo seems a little off, THAT'S NOT BUDDIES ;___;

Coop is... confused with life because Sylvie is back and also he's just got a lot going on the feelings department right now with no idea where to start with sorting any of it out. ALSO NOT BUDDIES.

Anyone can feel free to mention them/say they chatted with them/whatever, as long as there's no like, horrifying damage done to them. I'll take care of that when I come back 8)))) I'm loving all the threads I have going on so I plan on replying to them but if you feel like too much time has passed and don't want to tag back, I won't take it personally <3



FARE THEE WELL!
Erika (&Spencer&Coop)

It's a slow day at Crossroads. Joel's opted to help Raleigh with the bakery again, and Spencer's relieved that his husband isn't here to witness the truly dismal lack of business coming in today. He's spent the last hour re-alphabetizing and organizing another wall, though the incoming inventory that had been delivered today still hasn't been unpacked, mostly because Spencer hates the idea of leaving even more stacks of books just sitting around the store. Ideally, they'd make room for more books on the shelves by selling the ones they already have, but it's nearly three and Spencer has accepted the fact that this Thursday is going to be a bit of a wash.

He's sold exactly two books today, one on a history of a magic that Joel's told him is mostly crockery but more for the tourists than anyone else, so Spencer doesn't feel guilty letting the customer--a very sweet young woman who's just passing through--walk out the door with it; the other had been a novel about shopping or something or other for someone looking for material to read on the beach for the dwindling days of sunshine and warm air.

He's leaning against the counter and peering at his laptop now, groping near the cash register for a pair of glasses he knows he's left behind and setting them on his nose once he finds them. He'd finally gotten Crossroads on Yelp, and he's checking for reviews but as of right now there's only two. They both give the shop five stars, both reviews left by anonymous users singing the praises of the aesthetic of the store and the kindness of its owners. Spencer actually suspects that Raleigh or possibly Coop are responsible for the reviews, but he doesn't ask because if he's right, he'd have no choice but to ask them to take them down from the page. As it is, he's going to let this ride because a five-star rating is better than a zero-star rating. They have to start somewhere with this online marketing business, after all. He draws the line at the Facebook and Twitter additions, though. Spencer has no interest in either of those mediums.

He's just switched to his Quickbooks program so he can re-run the numbers on their profits and budget for the month so far when he hears the bell on the door jingle as someone steps into the shop, and he pulls his glasses from his face to offer a smile to the visitor.



[ooc: Feel free to stop in for whatever reason, strangers and friends alike.]