riverviewlogs | The Secret Life of an Irish-American Nerd [Open]

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The Secret Life of an Irish-American Nerd [Open]

who: Ronan Lynch and Open
what: The Butterfly Effect strikes Ronan. He sprouts hair and loses his tattoo and PTSD. Now he can no longer hide the fact that he’s a nerd. Reading Virgil and playing bagpipes by a river happens. Ronan has no clear memories of his stay in Riverview but will remember how he feels about people he’s met here.
when: June 15th-24th
where: Communal floor one, Buttercup Farms, by a river like the magical creature he is, the library, and with his boyfriend
warnings: He’s rattled from almost being killed by a demon but nothing other than that.
Also as always, can switch to brackets

a. Library
No longer oozing black goo, Ronan needed a day to calm down. After a night spent listening to Gaelic music and struggling against nightmares, Ronan headed to the library. His predecessor-- him-- God, that was confusing, hadn’t left behind any books.

He grabbed some works by his favorites, Virgil and Seneca, adding Marcus Aurelius’s Meditations later. His last addition came as a surprise to him. Books on demons didn’t belong in the Lynch family household and certainly not at Aglionby. Ronan hesitated, running his fingers over the spine of one book before taking it. Just in case.

When he finally found a place to sit, he went back and forth between books, but the one on demons remained untouched for a good while.

If anyone who’d previously met him ran into Ronan, they could be forgiven for not recognizing him what with the curly dark hair, lack of tattoos, and the books.

b. Communal housing floor one

Ronan had lived with his parents and two brothers. He had also, basically lived with his best friend Gansey and a ghost, when he and either his father or Declan (or worse, both) kept butting heads. But this did not prepare him for sharing a whole floor with other people, even if one of them was Adam.

He moved as quietly as possible, worked even harder to keep control of his dreams, and did everything he could not to attract attention. Unfortunately, he was still Ronan Lynch, which meant that aside from being a messy eater, he radiated magical energy without even trying. But even if one didn’t notice that, the fact was that the angry eighteen year old with a shaved head and a tattoo was replaced by a amiable if anxious eighteen year old with dark curly hair without a tattoo in sight. Whatever his roommates thought of it, it unnerved his raven Chainsaw, who’d taken to flying away from Ronan and screeching at random intervals.

c. ~~In a van~~ Down by the River
Even without the trauma of his father’s death, Ronan was still different and, some would say, difficult. For instance, his hobbies could be considered incredibly annoying. In the case of bagpipes, Ronan had learned that the sound was something of an acquired taste. Back at Aglionby, he’d used that to his own advantage several times just to piss people off late at night. Here, he wasn’t keen on having his embarrassing hobby discovered.

Sitting by the river, tempting fate like all the heroes in the fairy tales his parents told him, Ronan serenaded anyone who came close with the unmistakable sound of the uilleann bagpipes. Even out of practice, he wasn’t bad. But not many people appreciated the music of his people, especially when he played “Mary Had a Little Lamb” just for kicks.

d. Wild Card!

[OOC: Ronan’s all over the place. Your character can find him checking out Riverview and also working at Buttercup Farm with a very distressed raven watching from a distance.]

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Ronan remembered now. He'd been about to suggest making a place for them, slowly, out of his dreams. How hard could architecture be? Fortunately, being replaced by a double was enough to knock some sense into Ronan. He knew now that this stay in Riverview was not all sunshine and roses. He had to go back eventually. Creating paradise would have to wait until he was back at the Barns.

"Huge and away from everyone," Ronan said. He continued in a more serious note. "Whatever you want. I'll fill it up with dream shit in a week. If don't have to worry about someone catching me making it or making out, I'm good."

Ronan thought back to Adam's qualifications for a suitable home and realized further clarification was needed.

"Unless the building's falling apart, then we're out of there. I'm not living in a dump."

Adam frowned at him. "You think I want to live in a dump?" Just because he'd never lived anywhere nice didn't mean that was all he could find. Of course he'd get them a nice place. Adam wanted it more than Ronan did.

Not that he really ever took too much offense to the shit Ronan said. There had been worse than that. The way his shoulders relaxed and his free hand moved from Ronan's scalp to under the back of his shirt suggested that it didn't matter to him.

"I want something modern. Stainless steel everything. Somewhere around work and the university since I won't be able to afford a car for a while." His eyes were half-lidded, a little dreamy. This was clearly a fantasy he'd had for a while. "A fuckton of rooms we don't have any use for, and air conditioning." What a dream.

Did Ronan think Adam wanted that? No, but he didn't want to move into the first available apartment they could afford. If someone walked in and disturbed them, he might change his mind. But surely it couldn't take that long to save up?

Ronan slid his arm from around Adam's shoulder to down his back but he kept the hand holding Adam's where it was.

"I'm with you on air conditioning," Ronan said, not realizing that implied he wasn't on anything else.

He agreed with the rooms. The Barns was overflowing with items that extra rooms were not only a must but extra sheds. But modern and close to everything? Ronan doubted he'd mind for their stay in Riverview, but it reminded him more that there remained a bridge to cross in terms of what they wanted out of life.

It didn't look like it'd be as hard to cross for the other him and Adam. Willing to fly off around the world for God knows how long? Ronan would do the same if his father were alive, but he'd rather be at home.

Whatever. They were here now. Home wasn't. If Adam wanted a nice modern place, he'd get it. They'd enjoy it while they could.

"What else do you want?"

Adam frowned, toying with the few lines of Ronan's tattoo that were visible. It didn't seem like Ronan wanted anything but the air conditioning, which wasn't a surprise. He knew Ronan wanted something like the Barns, rustic and homey. Adam enjoyed the Barns, of course, but it was a home that would never be his.

He was tired of being around dirt and dust. If Ronan wanted something different, he should say so. If he wasn't going to, Adam would pick what he liked.

"I dunno. You can choose what kind of furniture you want to dream up. Big windows, a fireplace." Can they have that in an apartment? Oh well. He wasn't sure he should continue on pointing out the differences in what they wanted out of life. He leaned in to kiss at Ronan's neck.

"For you to make me breakfast in the mornings."

"If you're a fan of cereal." Ronan smiled. Since taking care of Opal, his cooking skills had improved, and he would make an actual breakfast if Adam so desired, but Ronan hoped his expectations weren't too high.

Ronan closed his eyes. He knew he'd been gone for a while, even if some version of him was still here. He knew Adam must have missed him. He wanted to be into this, but his adrenaline had faded. Sitting on the couch, his aches went beyond the physical. The slow circles he made over Adam's back were more lackluster than lustful.

Ronan tried to picture the apartment instead. Stainless stell wouldn't be so bad. He'd think of it like an upgraded Monmouth. Big windows-- wait.

"Are you talking about an apartment or a condo?"

Did they have fireplaces in condos? Shit, maybe they just needed to get an actual home.

Adam wasn't thinking about taking things farther, the kisses mostly just a way to butter Ronan up into being a housewife. He did miss his boyfriend, but it was just as nice to cuddle up together, and it was clear that Ronan's touches were distracted.

"Mm, bacon," he requested. This was a fantasy, after all. Whether or not Ronan actually made him breakfast, it didn't matter. He liked to think about it.

The fantasy got distorted when Ronan questioned it. He furrowed his brow and looked up thoughtfully. "I guess I've always imagined having a condo. We could try for that, I've been thinking about getting another job. Plus, I have that firefly business. It should make money once we're done testing."

"Oh fuck no, no more jobs. Give your boyfriend some time or I'm not making you bacon." Ronan meant that with all his being. He'd make scrambled eggs instead. "We're getting an apartment. I'll challenge myself with a fireplace."

He wasn't sure if it was possible to dream that up without altering the structure of the building, which sounded less like a dream and more like a nightmare. One of those fake fireplaces with a movie screen fire? That sounded like something extravagant Adam might like as long as no one paid for it. It'd go with stainless steel.

This was not helping Ronan be any less distracted. It seemed he'd need some more buttering.

"What are you even testing?"

"I only have one job," he argued, plus a variety of hobbies and school. "Do you feel like we're not spending enough time together?" If he could handle hanging out with his friends on a regular basis while working three jobs, maintaining a 4.0 GPA, and working for a magic forest, he was sure a couple jobs wouldn't keep him away from Ronan.

It wasn't like Ronan had any right to forbid him from getting another job, anyway, so he wasn't actually going to argue that. He'd keep an eye out for any jobs that interested him, but he wasn't going to take something too demeaning. He could have options now.

He pulled back, getting into conversation mode again. "How it's going to work on people, since we're extracting the venom from the fireflies and putting it into other products. Plus, we want to crossbreed for better emotional effects. Most of the natural ones are pretty negative."

"I have only one job. Why do you want to sacrifice all your free time?" Ronan wouldn't confess to feeling they weren't spending enough time together. He knew they were, or he knew he should feel that way. But without the few family and friends he had, Ronan was lonely. He was the one who had too much free time.

Ronan frowned. Maybe he should get Adam to kiss his neck again. He didn't like the turn this was taking.

Mind-altering mutant firefly juice. He wished he hadn't asked.

Ronan's silence always spoke more than most people's. Often, he used silence to unnerve people but they both knew that didn't work on Adam. Which meant he was quiet in order to avoid lying, or otherwise stating how he actually felt.

Adam closed his eyes and leaned it against the back of the couch, tired from whatever this meant. "What am I supposed to do with free time? I only like it if I'm spending it with you, and you're not always there. I might as well be productive."

He was nervous about free time. Guilt and loneliness began to eat at him, and it was better to not be left alone with his thoughts.

"Tell me what you're thinking. Don't try to hide it."

"I didn't like those fireflies and I don't like that someone's going all mad scientist on them. They were enough of a mind-fuck." There, he said it.

Nevermind that if they could harness the better emotions, Ronan would be a prime candidate for say, actually receiving treatment for at least one mental illness. Ronan didn't bother with medication back home. He wasn't about to change his mind.

He glanced at Chainsaw. At least he wasn't going to piss her off within an hour of being reunited. Ronan moved his arm away from Adam.

Before anything else started, he wanted to make one thing clear.

"I'm not going to tell you what to do with your time."

"Good, because I don't want you to." It was said a bit snappishly, which Adam regretted. He took a breath, and worked on calming himself down. He was naturally prickly and their relationship often came with stupid little arguments, so he'd begun working on ways to not fight with Ronan when it wasn't called for.

Sometimes fighting was just ineviable, because they were Ronan Lynch and Adam Parrish.

He opened his eyes to look at Ronan, an attempt to show that he wasn't mad. "I'm the only one going mad scientist on them. Dodger's just helping out. I want to understand how alien fireflies work in case something similar happens, and if people want to buy some, so be it. I'm not making anyone do anything." It was also partially for defense, to make him feel like he had some weapon in case of an emergency. It was just being practical. There was a reason, though, that he specifically had not involved Ronan with his work.

"Seriously, we can spend more time together if that's what this is about. I have a little garden you can help me take care of, or you can come fight monsters for me outside the perimeter."

Usually, Ronan could handle their fights. They were usually misunderstandings, as inconsequential as they were stupid, and this was probably no exception, but it was not something he could do right now.

Ronan pulled his hand away from Adam's and slid away. He rose to his feet.

"Yeah, because my opinion has everything to do with your schedule. Fine. We'll do one of those later."

He looked at the door. What would be more satisfying, going outside of the city and punching more things or playing that pipes that his other self left him. Probably the latter but the former sounded better.

Adam righted himself on the couch, annoyed that Ronan had left. Even more annoyed because it seemed like Ronan was mad, but he was also making plans with Adam for later. It seemed that he just wanted to be alone right now, for whatever reason.

"I don't know why you're upset," he said, but then shrugged and stood up. "I'll be here, when you feel like it."

Deep down, there was a rational side of Ronan. It popped up infrequently and was promptly ignored. Whenever it spoke to him, it sounded remarkably like Gansey.

Ronan. That's enough. Stop now, before--

Ronan looked at Adam. "Really? You can't figure that one out? You're the one who asked what was bothering me. I told you I don't like anything messing with someone's emotions. If you don't like the answer, don't blame it on something I never said. You can do whatever the hell you want with your time or apartment or anything. I'm fucking trying here. I--"

It wasn't an internal voice that stopped him this time but the knowledge that all of this was dancing around the real reason he was upset. That other Ronan had been embarrassing and insufferable and his previous dating experiences were both questionable and gross, but Ronan doubted he'd have this kind of trouble with his boyfriend.

No, the real reason was that Ronan had his parents. All this Ronan had was anger and hurt and a relationship with what appeared to be a looming expiration date.

Ronan realized that his nails were digging into his palm. He uncurled his fist, which he'd been bouncing restlessly against his leg.

Adam set his jaw. He knew it would be best to let Ronan just get his anger out, not say anything, but that simply wasn't how he worked. When someone was wrong, Adam wanted to tell them what was right.

"Like it's any different than changing your mood with alcohol. Except it doesn't even make people do stupid shit, you're still completely rational through it." Adam, to his credit, refrained from making a comment about how Ronan would like it if it got him drunk. He'd figured out some filter.

"Okay, I get it, you don't like it. But what are you trying to do? I'm not the one who's pissed, I was having a good time talking to you." Logically, he knew Ronan's anger wasn't a rational thing. Ronan was angry to be angry or to stop himself from feeling another emotion. It didn't mean that Adam had to like it or support that horrible coping mechanism.

"I give less of a shit about my mood when drunk. It doesn't change anything." Plus he was less likely to bring back night horrors. Not that they'd been a problem in a while but Ronan feared a resurgence in the wake of this. "And I cut back on that because I'm--" Ronan waved his hands helplessly, struggling to come up with any way to describe his feelings, thoughts, or actions.

"Trying to be more like-- someone who likes something modern."

Ronan heard that relationships were a compromise. The problem there was his father had dreamed his mother. Why would they disagree when Aurora was made to be the perfect wife and mother? How could Ronan even estimate what would be the right amount of give and take, when he'd never seen more than a minor quarrel.

Adam paused curiously, like he needed a moment to parse what those words meant coming from Ronan. He hadn't really thought Ronan would be the type to compromise, but Adam wasn't either. Probably, Ronan had seen where they needed to make adjustments and Adam's stubbornness had blinded him.

He settled, looking down to the floor for a moment. "That's not what I want you to be, though." He crossed his arms, wishing this were easier.

"I want you to tell me what you want and we'll figure it out. If you don't say anything, I'll pick what I like best and you'll just be―uncomfortable with it, or something. And then we're both not gonna be happy." He thought back to the small hint of what Ronan wanted, that had been passed off as a joke.

"You want somewhere huge and away from everyone, that's fine with me."

"Could we afford that? The apartment's fine-- I think," he added after a pause because he didn't want to be caught in a lie later, even if he didn't meant for it to be one. "They don't have what I want here."

Ronan wanted the Barns.

He rubbed his forehead. There was a fraint tremor in his hand from adrenaline and an emotion that wasn't anger.

Adam made a face when Ronan added I think, knowing full well what that meant. He took a step closer to his boyfriend so it didn't look like they were in a stand-off.

"We can afford it. My ideas are just things I used to think about wanting. I always imagined myself alone." Which didn't mean he wanted to be alone, only that it was how he imagined his life going. "But it's going to be our house, not just mine, so it has to be different, right?"

He reached out to take the hand on Ronan's head, examining his boyfriend's palm. "That's why I want it with you. You make things different."

Ronan didn't shrink back from the touch, accepting this more readily than when Adam was practically on him. After a while, he turned his hand so he could hold Adam's.

"That's an understatement," Ronan said. "I never imagined my own dream home. I thought I'd steal my father's."

He meant for that to be a light joke but uttering the punchline felt like a blow to the stomach. He'd already broken down so not much of his reaction showed other than the corner of his mouth twitching, desperate to form a grimace before Ronan stilled it.

"I'll make them different in a good way."

Adam didn't know what to say to that. He wondered how Ronan, who created amazing things, could never think about creating his own home. The Barns, he supposed, had always been enough for Ronan.

He couldn't understand. But he knew that any thought about Niall being the thief wouldn't be appropriate, so he was glad when Ronan added to it.

"You always do. Usually do." He pulled Ronan off to the bedroom, then, thinking they could both use some sleep.

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The Secret Life of an Irish-American Nerd [Open]

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