Off The Map

Yankees v Red Sox. For Jimmy and Alan

2007-09-17T23:58:36Z

Caleb's pretty excited. A baseball game, the Red Sox, Jimmy and Alan, the prospect of all the junk food he can handle (or afford), and so far he hasn't cared at all that they're back in Boston again. At all. Now that's progress. Although there are good reasons why he hasn't turned to his usual dislike of revisiting old haunting grounds. If for no other reason, how often does he have an actual reason to slather himself in body paint? He's got it in red, white and blue and he's not afraid to use it. The turtle, left back at the hotel despite his claims that it would pine for them, already has a multicolored shell.

"Jimmy? Alan? Come here so I can paint your face."

He probably should've waited to get someone else to do his own. It's... abstract.

For the_calcium_tm

2006-08-16T07:05:45Z

After talking to Alan and sitting outside for an hour or two, Caleb was ready to go back in and try to sleep and not think at all for a while. No dreams. No thinking. That's be nice. And maybe it's because so far after a day of full of exhausting activities he's only slept about two hours, but he goes to sleep hard. And he only spends a little while listening to Jimmy breathe and not curling a hand on Jimmy's arm.

He wakes up and Jimmy's asleep. So Caleb, careful not to move Jimmy much, rolls over and goes back to sleep.

He wakes up again and assumes, on half-asleep autopilot, that Jimmy's up and about, because Jimmy's always up before Caleb. He rolls out of bed and into the bathroom, and it's not until after half an hour of showering and getting dressed that Caleb realises Jimmy's still asleep.

So... okay. That'll give Caleb time to come up with a plan. A talking plan.

By the time a stream of afternoon sunlight's coming in through the balcony doorway, Caleb's lying on the floor and thinking maybe it wasn't as bad as he thought it was. He probably doesn't need a plan, which is good because all he's got so far is step 1: talk to Jimmy. A little fight, a little tree punching... it could happen to anyone. Right?

Phonecall to alan_shore.

2006-07-29T14:31:37Z

From here.

For the first time in pretty much ever, Caleb wakes up before Jimmy. He wakes up before it's even light, or what he'd usually call morning. Sleep was slow in coming and barely there when it did. Caleb dreamt of dusty roads and a sky full of heavy clouds; when he blinks and sits up, he's still expecting fat drops of rain, the bass notes of thunder, sharp cracks of lightning, all to stir up the dust around him.

It's disappointing to wake up in a cool calm night.

Foregoing a midnight storm, Caleb scrubs his hair into further disarray and picks up the phone, shutting the door quietly behind him when he sits out on the balcony. He dials Alan's number, without knowing if he wants advice or absolution.

It was summertime, we had too much time.

2006-07-19T07:47:57Z

From here.

The walk from Starbucks to the nearest ice rink is where Caleb most struggles with his thoughts. It’s not contemplation – by far too placid a word. Turmoil then, with a veneer of contemplation. Studied calm and ringing in his ears.

He is, in fits and starts, angry and tired. The anger flares and fades quickly; Caleb’s never been good at staying mad without real provocation. And he wasn’t angry until Jimmy was furious, something Caleb still doesn’t understand. He’s not, he supposes, surprised. Sam used to flip out every now and then. But he thought that Jimmy knew him. Knew him. Got him and could deal with it and yeah, part of the fun was driving him nuts, but it wasn’t supposed to be driving him away as well.

He doesn’t know how to fix things. All he’s good at is making things worse. He doesn’t want to go back to the hotel.

Later, when Caleb tries to remember how he got to the ice rink, he won’t remember the directions.

There are black storm-cloud thoughts that amass in his mind – ‘My backpack’s in the hotel room, I need to get it’ and ‘who cares’ and ‘I don’t need this’ – and then a heavy weight in his stomach blows them away and Jimmy’s words come back and he thinks, ‘he’s sick of me’. He’s not, he supposes, surprised by that either.

Caleb would, if he could, be the kind of person who’d actually be good for Jimmy. (‘Orlando’, a treacherous voice says in his mind.) But he doesn’t know how and he likes who he is, so it’s a sure bet that it won’t happen. Caleb can’t help wanting what he wants.

The ice rink is mostly empty. Kids are in school and people, most people, are at work. Not many people want to go ice skating before lunch on a weekday. Most people, he supposes, have better things to do. Sensible things. Work their legitimate jobs and live in their nice houses and Jimmy thinks he’s never worked a day in his life and Jimmy probably thinks that’s a cardinal sin and a sign of poor character and-

Hiring skates and lacing them up is distracting enough that Caleb can concentrate on that instead. And then he’s out on the ice and finding out it’s just like riding a bike and falling off a log. He hasn’t forgotten and it’s pretty easy. In the interest of being sensible, Caleb starts off slowly anyway, listening to the sharp scrape of his skates. The ice is smooth beneath his blades and it doesn’t take long before his careful leisurely laps turn into sprints. To go further and faster. It’s simple and the want for it sounds like the ringing of clear bells in his head. The simple joy of movement, solitary and free.

By the time Caleb skates off the ice, he’s panting and shining with sweat. His legs ache. He needs a shower and a change of clothes, which means going back to the hotel room. Before, on the walk over, he was nervous about going back and having to fix things and face Jimmy. Now he’s too tired to care. Maybe that’s what he was aiming for.

The guy at the counter, with nothing else to do, had been watching the few people skating around. “Hey man, you were really flying out there.”

It’s not because of rudeness that Caleb only minimally shrugs for an answer. He’s tired all the way through. He wants to lie down somewhere. ‘Don’t talk to me about flying,’ is what he thinks but doesn’t say.

“Lucky you came in now when it’s quiet. Later when there’s a crowd, there’re too many people to really get going.”

Dumping the skates on the counter, Caleb is already walking off when he says, “See you round.” He’s in no mood for small talk.

If Jimmy were here, if he hadn’t - if he were here, Caleb wouldn’t have stretched his legs out like that. He would’ve stayed near Jimmy and held onto him and probably laughed whenever Jimmy lost balance. Slow and together. Or fast and alone.

Jimmy, through dint of effort and staying power and just being Jimmy, has made a place for himself in the things that Caleb wants to take with him when he leaves. There’s no question of that. The question is whether Jimmy wants to be there. And if Jimmy doesn’t want to be there, if it means he’ll be angry and hate it, then Caleb will scour that place away. He just wants to know, one way or the other.

And the bells are ringing in Caleb’s head, calling, always calling.

He walks back to the hotel, exhausted inside and out. He doesn’t notice how nice the hotel is, how completely not a shithole it is, but he will tomorrow and it’ll taste bitterly of should’ves and could’ves and being a disappointment again. Instead he ignores everything and goes to their room. Jimmy isn’t there.

The old backpack that carries Caleb’s essentials isn’t hard to pack up. He isn’t prying when he goes through Jimmy’s things, just finding his Pearl Jam shirt to pack in with everything else. Caleb tucks it under the bed and then goes to shower. What’s supposed to be a quick scrub turns into an hour long soak because Caleb doesn’t know what to do. When the wrinkles in his fingers start to get wrinkles of their own, he turns the water off and dries himself methodically. He dresses and leaves the bathroom.

The hotel room is empty. Jimmy isn’t back.

Caleb pulls his backpack out and sits on the bed. Cracks his knuckles. Puts his backpack back under the bed. Pulls it out again to retrieve his copy of a Wodehouse collection and, not unpacking anything else, puts it back. He retreats to the balcony and the view of the skyline, shutting the door behind him. The pages of his book are brown and stained and he knows every story word for word, but it’s comforting just to have it there.

Mostly he watches the clouds and the shifting light and listens to the clear, chiming sounds of silence.

caleb_walks @ 2006-05-18T22:07:00

2006-05-18T12:29:01Z

OOC: Thanks so much to whoever gave me a year's paid time. You're awesome and you've inadvertantly kickstarted me back into writing. Cheers to you!

The Black Jewel Like Night Grows Late.

The hotel room is quiet. The silence is especially loud because Caleb is murmuring under his breath, for once without the television on. Jimmy’s writing something, a letter maybe, and he’s concentrating, furrowed brow and all, which was why Caleb was murmuring under his breath and not with a louder, more dramatic (read: ridiculous) performance.

At least to start with. Now he’s sotto voice because the quiet is inside his head as well as inside the room.

“Sasoi irete
Saraba to
Waga te harai masu
Mikeshi no nioi
Yami yawarakaki”

He’s stopped trying to drink coffee. That’s a bad habit he’ll pick back up again later, at his convenience. He occasionally wakes up late at night and hides out on the balcony, smoking a furtive cigarette. But he’s barely into his second packet, so he figures that hardly counts as a habit, bad or no. Since Alan left, he hasn’t been drinking so much. It’s not much fun without a partner in crime. If Caleb were to give up antagonizing the locals (and the tourists, he’s equal opportunity) there’d be hardly a bad habit to be found.

Caleb supposes this is what being mature feels like.

So he’s picking up other old habits. Like amassing a library of books. He can’t read most of them, what with them being in Japanese or kanji and all, but he likes pretending he can read it and flicking through them. He likes looking at what are, to him, intricate pictures. It’s like looking at code. He’s also found a book of Japanese poetry by Yosano Akiko and he’s sounding each one out, with hardly an idea of what he’s saying.

The rhythm of the exotic words is being butchered. But it’s not like Caleb or Jimmy are in a position to know that. Caleb just thinks the syllables taste good.

“Koto no ne ni
Kyosho no oto no
Uchi majiru
Kono ayashisa mo
Mune no hibiki zo”

What Jimmy doesn’t know, yet, is that Caleb’s going to cut himself (and by himself, he really means themselves) off from Guglielmo. No more river of money. No more credit card that always gets approved and never ends dinner with a runner. It’s too easy. It was great for a while, but it’s not fun anymore. It’s boring. There’s no grit to it. Caleb sucks at being rich. He’d rather be dirt poor again and begging/charming people for jobs.

What Jimmy doesn’t know, yet (if ever), is that Caleb is dreaming about roads that don’t end more and more often. About being alone, solitary, under a wide blue sky. And in the dreams, it’s the most natural feeling. To just be walking and moving, unencumbered by possessions or memories or anyone by his side. Where nothing he does matters because there’s no one to see it or remember it. Where having nothing is better than having everything.

When he wakes up, his hand is always holding tightly to Jimmy’s.

“Yoru no cho ni
Sasameki tsukishi
Hoshi no ima wo
Gekai no hito no
Bin no hotsure yo”

What Caleb doesn’t know, yet, is that he doesn’t miss being poor, like that's the solution. He misses staying in one place for a week and then leaving and not going back. He misses making up a family and a hometown and a hard luck story. He misses being someone else.

What Caleb doesn’t know, yet (if ever), is that he’s, for the first time, feeling the weight of his lie. And it’s not even really a hard lie to keep up. They don’t really talk about their families, and that’s always where things got tricky in his last extended lie. Jimmy’s dad is an iffy subject and he’s a bit prickly about his mother and Caleb’s more than happy to ignore the idea that either of them came from anywhere. At least he, he might one day argue, never said he came from another dimension. If the conversation ever arises and he sincerely wishes it doesn’t. He’s generally happy with the status quo. Although he’d like to move around more, always to new places, and he’s sure that Jimmy wants to move around less, maybe back to Boston where there are old friends.

A good compromise leaves everyone slightly unsatisfied.

It’s weird and stupid feeling the vague want for something else because when he’s with Jimmy and they’re hanging out and talking and whatnot, it’s barely there. And when it does spike, it only makes him pretend to consider the idea that if he told Jimmy the truth, Jimmy might come too and make things up and be happy always going forward and never going back.

Caleb is good at lying, even to himself. But he’s not that good.

Jimmy wants a home.

“Ima koko ni
Kaerimi sureba
Waga nasake
Yami o osorenu
Meshii ni nitari”

And despite what he wants when he’s sleeping and what he wants when he’s awake, Caleb’s pretty sure the compromise between the two won’t last. Jimmy will want to stop. Caleb won’t. He’s restless. It’s showing. He’s… uneasy. And it’s showing.

-------

OOCTranslations of the poems in order are:

He tempted me to
Come in to say goodbye.
I hesitated to respond
And he brushed my hand away.
But yet -- the smell of his clothes
In the soft darkness.

Amidst the notes
Of my koto is another
Deep mysterious tone,
A sound that comes from
Within my own breast.

At the beginning
Of the night the whispering
Snow fell, and now stars
Fill this world below on the
Dishevelled hair about my face.

Come at last to this point
I look back on my passion
And realize that I
Have been like a blind man
Who is unafraid of the dark.

Haikus.

2006-04-19T06:41:26Z

[Private]

Let's try again.

Well. That's nice. Third time's a charm...

[/Private]

caleb_walks @ 2006-04-15T19:45:00

2006-04-15T09:52:54Z

Stolen from everyone, because I too love these kinds of things. Claim your Calebs and suggest a pairing if you wish.

1) Hitch-hiking!Caleb Taken
2) Drunk-and-Stupid!Caleb Taken
3) Happy!Caleb
4) Dumped!Caleb
5) Swimming!Caleb Taken
6) Knocked-someone-up!Caleb Taken
7) Morning After!Caleb Taken
8) Reading!Caleb
9) Liar!Caleb
10) Asking-for-a-beating!Caleb Taken
11) Employed!Caleb
12) School Boy!Caleb
13) Honest!Caleb
14) Sleeping!Caleb
15) Sick!Caleb
16) Exhausted!Caleb
17) Arrested!Caleb
18) Lost!Caleb
19) AU!Caleb
20) Breakfast!Caleb
21) Dirty!Caleb
22) Twins!Caleb Taken

caleb_walks @ 2006-03-29T23:25:00

2006-03-29T12:30:18Z

Taken a picture naked? No.
Painted your room? No.
Made out with a member of the same sex? Yes.
Danced in front of your mirror? Yes.
Drove a car? Yes.
Had a crush? Yes.
Been dumped? No.
Stole money from friend? Yes.
Told a lie? Yes.
Gotten in a car with people you just met? Yes.
Been in a fist fight? Yes.
Snuck out of your house? Yes.
Had feelings for someone who didn't have them back? Yes.
Been arrested? Yes.
Made out with a stranger? Yes.
Met up with a member of the opposite sex somewhere? Yes.
Had a crush on your neighbor? No.
Left your house without telling your parents? Yes.
Ditched school to do something more fun? Yes.
Slept in a bed with a member of the same sex? Yes.
Seen someone die? No.
Been on a plane? Yes.
Kissed a picture? No.
Slept in until 3? Yes.
Laid on your back and watched cloud shapes go by? Yes.
Made a snow angel? Yes.
Played dress up? Yes.
Cheated while playing a game? Yes.
Been lonely? Yes.
Fallen asleep at work/school? Yes.
Been to a club? Yes.
Felt an earthquake? No.
Touched a snake? Yes.
Ran a red light? Yes.
Had detention? Yes.
Been suspended from school? Yes.
Been in a car accident? Yes.
Hated the way you look? No.
Witnessed a crime? Yes.
Been to the opposite side of the country? Yes.
Pole danced? No.
Been lost? Yes.
Sang karaoke? No.
Done something you told yourself you wouldn't? Yes.
Laughed until something you were drinking came out your nose? Yes.
Caught a snowflake on your tongue? Yes.
Kissed in the rain? No.
Sang in the shower? Yes.
Made love in a park? On a beach? Yes, and No.
Got your tongue stuck to a pole? No.
Ever gone to school partially naked? No.
Sat on a roof top? Yes.
Had a dream that you married someone? Yes.
Glued your hand to something? Yes.
Played chicken? No.
Been a cheerleader? No.
Been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on? Yes.
Been told you're hot by a complete stranger? Yes.
Broken a bone? Yes.
Didn't take a shower for a week? Yes.
Mooned/flashed someone? Yes.
Cheated on a test? Yes.
Forgotten someone's name? Yes.
Slept naked? Yes.
Been easily amused? Yes.
Blacked out from drinking? Yes.
Played a prank on someone? Yes.
Cheated on a girl/boyfriend? No.
Did you celebrate the 4th of July? No.
Thrown strange objects? Yes.
Felt like killing someone? Yes.
Thought about running away? Yes.
Ran away? Yes.
Did drugs? Yes.
Had detention and not attend it? Yes.
Made a parent cry? Yes.
Cried over someone? Yes.
Owned more than 5 sharpies? No.
Dated someone more than once? No.
Had sex more than 5 times in one day? Yes.
Gone to a late night movie? Yes.
Made love to anything not human? No.
Failed a class? Yes.
Choked on something you're not supposed to eat? Yes.
Played an instrument for more than 10 hours? No.
Had/Have a dog? Yes.
Been in a band? Yes.
Own an instrument? Yes.
Gone skinny dipping in a pool? Yes.
Broken a cd? Yes.
Drank 25 sodas in a day? Yes.
Shot a gun? No.

Goodbye, America. It's been fun!

2006-03-27T13:03:39Z

Boston is old news! Yesterday's paper! Japan is the new black, with its wacky vending machines and anime porn. That's right. Jimmy, Alan, and I are going to ravage Japan like Godzilla and Mothra.

Now I've just got to find my phrase book thing.

Sacrifices: hang onto a little chance.

2006-03-09T11:28:45Z

he dreams of dust and dry heat and empty road laid out in front of him like it never ends and the sweet addictive thrill that comes from being alone and walking and there’s the sky above him and any second now he’s going to fall into it into the blue and never stop but there’s something around his legs and he’s on the streets of New York and the sky is further and further away and there’s no more road just streets and buildings and his legs won’t move and there’s people everywhere crowding around suffocating keeping him stuck on the ground until he can’t see anything at all but buildings and people and buildings and

Caleb wakes up slowly, reality and dream merging until the restraints around his legs are hotel sheets and the ground is a bed and the solitary desert is a hotel room. He doesn’t move, not until he can disentangle himself without clumsiness and avoid waking up Jimmy.

There’s no coffee in the room. No alcohol either. Unfortunate because Caleb would’ve been satisfied with a quick swig of anything that’d make his eyes water. Then he’d go back to sleep. But the room’s been purged of those particular vices and he goes out into the cool night air to find something, anything that’ll make that crushing sensation go away.

It’s cigarettes he comes back with, smuggling them out onto the balcony even though Jimmy’s asleep and not in a position to see. He leaves the door open and watches Jimmy from where he sits and smokes. The dirty air in his lungs calms Caleb down, the act of rebelling against Jimmy’s healthy-milk-drinking lifestyle brings him back to himself.

He’s wondering how they got this far and how long they’ll last and where the end will come to turn another place on the map into a blackhole of a no-go zone.

Caleb has always seen Jimmy as out of place. Jimmy isn’t a traveler. Jimmy, in Caleb’s mind, has a little house and a wife and a baby and a milk round somewhere that he never has to go in the water at all and where he knows everyone and they wave when he goes past in a happy community of normal people.

Also known as Caleb’s idea of Hell.

One day Jimmy’s going to want to stop when Caleb wants to keep going.

And even if, somehow, they don’t self destruct in a blaze of personality conflicts, there’s still the slight issue of how Caleb made up a few things about himself. Like coming from Seattle and having brothers and sisters (the number of which Caleb now can’t remember and he hopes he was vague enough when he talked about them) and having a recently dead uncle (whose name he’s forgotten) and whatever else he’s bullshitted along the way.

The stupid thing is that this is the longest he’s ever had to stick with one story and it’s getting so that at least the basic pretend-facts almost seem real. Like yeah, he does come from Seattle. Except that really he was there once for maybe two months and he can hardly remember anything about the place. The Seattle in his head is mostly made up.

Caleb can’t help but think that Jimmy may not take his make-believe life very well. And Caleb’s plan to make up a new lie about a tragic and abusive childhood that he didn’t want to talk about to cover up his relatively normal and untragic childhood feels too much like there’s an actual shovel in his hand, dirt under his fingernails, as he digs himself in deeper.

So there’s that time-bomb ticking silently in the background as well. Caleb cannot envisage a way that this can end well – or, more correctly, not end at all.

He lights the next cigarette from the butt of the last one and ends up just holding it as it slowly turns into ash. The stupid stupid thing is that Caleb can’t find it in him to care. Not about how it’d hurt Jimmy if he found out about Caleb’s untruths. Not even about what it’d be like going back to sleeping in hotel rooms alone; no sounds of steady breathing nearby, no warmth to hold onto, after slowly becoming accustomed to someone being there all the time, to Jimmy being there all the time.

He knows that this will end and it will end badly and sitting there, watching Jimmy, he just doesn’t care. He wonders if they might be a bit codependent and doesn’t care about the answer, is scared about how much he doesn’t care and then doesn’t care about that either.

Throwing the remainder of the cigarette over the edge of the balcony, he goes back inside and hides the packet in his backpack. He’s forgotten his dream.

Caleb slides back into bed, easing next to Jimmy. He carefully doesn’t hold on tight. If he did, his fingers might cramp up and clench and grip and cling. He mouths the words he can’t make himself say and falls asleep with the smell of smoke wreathed around on him and on his breath. And then, in his sleep, his hands tighten anyway.

Taking a walk [for queen_c_tm]

2006-02-21T11:50:52Z

It's a nice enough day in Boston, sunny enough that people are out and about and doing the social thing.

Jimmy's been kind of quiet lately. Frustrated quiet and Caleb's pretty sure, or maybe hoping, that it's nothing to do with him because in the past Jimmy's spoken up whenever things got tense. And Caleb's curious. Just not curious enough to ask and risk opening up a can of worms that he's not prepared to deal with.

So he's gone walking. They've been staying in cities for a while now and even when he spends all day moving around, there's not much he can do that doesn't feel boxed in, what with all the buildings rising up over his head and not enough horizon. Walking until he's a bit lost and his surroundings are unfamiliar is relaxing.

Caleb's strolling down some street, hardly paying attention to anything around him, and occasionally bumping into people who aren't paying attention either.

This is for good, not for evil. I think.

2006-02-18T06:39:05Z

So how would you all go about finding out stuff about someone without having to go read old newspaper articles about them (the micro-thingie makes my eyes hurt) or having to do a lot of work tracking people down and asking pointed questions.

Also, is it a bad thing to pledge allegiance to a person? Now I think about it, it seems a little bit Star Wars/Anakin becoming a Sith.

Suggestions, please.

OOC: Thanks so much to whoever's given me extra icons! You rock!

caleb_walks @ 2006-02-02T08:09:00

2006-02-01T21:19:50Z

After you die...
the Beetlejuice Waiting Room

After death, you will end up in an overcrowded waiting room sitting beside Beetlejuice. You've been given the number 736 076 827 378 919 023, but they are currently serving number 3. Good Luck.

Take this quiz at QuizGalaxy.com

Yellows are motivated by fun. They are inviting and

embrace life as a party which they're

hosting. They love playful interaction and

can be extremely sociable and persuasive.

They seek instant gratification. YELLOWS need

to be adored and praised. While YELLOWS are

carefree, they are quite sensitive and highly

alert to others motives to control them.

YELLOWS carry within themselves the gift of a

good heart.

YELLOWS need to look good socially, and friendships

command a high priority in their lives.

YELLOWS are happy, highly verbal, easily

bored, and crave adventure. They can never

sit still for long. They choose friends who,

like themselves, refuse to allow lifes boring

details stifle their curiosity. They embrace

each day in the present tense. YELLOWS are

charismatic, spontaneous, positive, and can

be irresponsible, obnoxious, and forgetful.

When you deal with a YELLOW praise and adore

them, take a positive, upbeat approach, and

promote creative and fun activities for and

with them.

What Color Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

The gift of a good heart? I sound like a Disney character.

Alms for the poor.

2006-01-29T10:16:29Z

It's recently been made obvious to me that I lack a certain life experience. I do. And only with your charity can I make my new dream come true. What is this dream, I hear you ask. Well, that's simple.

I've never blackmailed anyone. And I don't want to die without ever doing it.

I can provide all the required equipment. Alan, I may need to borrow your camera. Now I need candidates. I need your help. So I want everyone to consider me a confessional. Spill your secrets, lock your comments, give me something juicy to work with. Nothing says 'I deserve to be in Heaven' to God like giving to the poor does.

Run to the water... when you're bored.

2006-01-25T10:45:19Z

Caleb is sitting out on the hotel balcony, dropping raisins on people walking by down below. This is what he does when he's completely bored. He drops food on random strangers. Occasionally he hears someone kicking up a fuss about it, although mostly that's when he uses bigger fruit products. Grapes or chunks of watermelon. They're the best for getting reactions. Grapes for their good aerodynamics and watermelon chunks because of their splatter effect.

These are things you never expect to learn when you hit the road. Caleb is a wealth of completely ridiculous facts and hints about better ways to do stupid and pointless things.

He doesn't even like eating raisins. Who knows how they got into the hotel room. Maybe they used to be grapes and they've just been in the room so long, they've gone wrinkly. It's possible.

Hmmm. Swimming. Caleb misses Hawaii where water was easily accessible by both the pool and the ocean. That was great. But then, this is a nice hotel. With nice guests. It probably has good facilities.

"Jimmy!" Caleb doesn't bother to get up. Yelling is much easier. "Jim-my!"

Unsent and unwritten letters.

2006-01-18T12:24:14Z

Dear Connor,

I'm sorr

****

Dear Mom and Dad,

So hey. Sorry I haven't called for a while. Time flies, huh? Things got busy and I've been moving around a bit and. Dad, don't flip out. I kind of, maybe, possibly have a boyfriend-like guy I'm checking out the world with these days. Are we cool?

Cool. Nice catching up with you.

Caleb.

****

Dear Connor,

Why the fuck couldn't you hold your fucking breath for a few seconds? Would that have been so fucking difficu

****

Dear Sam,

How're things? ~~Bad? Terrible? Awful? Got a boyfriend? Doing the nasty with his roommate?~~

You know they say you never really get over your first love. Turns out they're wrong. Just wanted to let you know I'm not pining or anything. Sorry about the article.

~~I hope you rot in hell. Or at least in some crappy job where you never get any recognition and no one likes you and the coffee is terrible.~~

All the best.

Caleb.

****

Dear Connor,

It wasn't my fault. I didn't mean to

****

Dear Jimmy,

I love you. I'll probably never actually say it, but there you go.

Caleb.

Operation Get Alan Lots of Phone Numbers [for alan_shore

2006-01-15T05:41:03Z

The speed dating night (or Operation Get Alan Lots of Phone Numbers) is about to commense. A discerning individual may notice that Caleb is slightly neater than usual, although this just means that his shirt has all its buttons and no tears, his shoes aren't covered in dirt, and his hair... actually, his hair looks the same as always.

He takes the elevator to Alan's floor, knocks on his door and yells at the same time. "Alan! Are you ready?"

Meme from the_calcium_tm

2006-01-10T09:23:32Z

Song Lyric Meme: Post me a few lyrics from a song and I'll ~~make you an icon of it~~ write you a drabblet (100-500 words) about it. Then, post this in your journal so I can do it for you!

*psychs self up, with help of 'Eye Of The Tiger' playing in background* All right, bring it on.

Good news!

2006-01-04T10:03:18Z

We are back in ye olde Boston and staying in the very same hotel that Alan Shore lays his head at night. It's so convenient. My lawyer isn't just a phonecall away anymore. He's a floor and two doors down. ~~Knock And Run! I feel obliged to play it!~~ It's the best time to get any illegal impulses out of my system, I think.

Also Alan, I have two words for you: speed dating.

So who's in Boston? Who can I grace with my presence?

An eggnoggy Christmas to you too.

2005-12-23T11:48:02Z

Caleb is sitting out on the balcony. It's cold and crisp and Christmasy. Perfect weather for plotting. Wait, not plotting. Planning. There's a difference, which tends to be between illegality and legality. Caleb is hoping he won't really need Alan's help in escaping a British jail.

He's got all the presents for everyone. Not to be sent out until Boxing Day because then they all get the surprise of an extra present to open after Christmas. And also because he can't be bothered braving the post office. It's a madhouse in there. A madhouse.

But, most importantly, he hasn't got a present for Jimmy. He was considering ~~stealing~~ borrowing a milk cart thingie and putting a big bow on it, but Jimmy'd probably get all moral about it and want to give it back. It's funny, but most of Caleb's ideas are conspicuously lacking in moral fibre.

And there's only a day and a bit left. Crap. There's only one place left to turn. The internet.

[locked from Jimmy]

Help help help help me.

What's a good present? That isn't stolen or immoral or likely to end up with anyone in jail?

Are you happy?

2005-12-19T11:58:25Z

Eye Love Yew

Caleb's happy.

He’s got a secret.

Caleb has trouble thinking it articulately. When it’s just a vague feeling (And god, is feeling a dirty word.) he can la-la-la through it. He has to force himself to sound out the syllables. Eye love yew. That’s a cheat. Different words, same sound. Caleb will take homophones for five hundred, Alex.

There isn’t one for love.

What’s more, if Jimmy doesn’t love him, he at least likes him. That’s something, and it’s enough if Caleb’s not going to tell Jimmy his secret. Jimmy gets annoyed when Caleb is insensitive. Jimmy gets worried when Caleb is reckless. Jimmy is pleased every time Caleb doesn’t live up to his expectations of being disappointing. Every time Caleb isn’t a fuck up. It isn’t all that often; most of the time Caleb doesn’t even realise what he’s done wrong or that he’s done anything at all.

Caleb has no moral guideline. Except for the cheating thing, which is less a moral guideline and more a stance on one issue from which he will not budge. He’ll put up with any amount of shit, he’s pretty goddamn tolerant, but if someone cheats on you, you say sayonara because the fucker will do it again if you forgive ‘em. He doesn’t even know why he thinks that, only that he always has. And then she cheated on him and Caleb proved he meant it when he fucked her over in return and then walked away without looking back.

That was a victory. Caleb was proud of himself once he stopped being drunk/hungover/numb. Hell yes, he’s got a motherfucking stance.

Jimmy is made up of moral guidelines. He’s got sayings that make sense in a ridiculously logical kind of way, even when they’re pretty stupid. Caleb doesn’t say that he thinks they’re stupid because he’s a shit, but not about everything. Caleb cannot convince Jimmy to do something he thinks is wrong. Caleb’s tried a whole bunch of times and maybe even gotten close, but when it comes down to it, Jimmy says no and convinces Caleb to do something else instead.

Caleb thinks that if when they end, Jimmy will be the same as always. He’s good all the way through and Caleb can’t touch that. Caleb thinks that if when they end, he’s gonna have to fit himself back together again. He won’t even be able to hit the road because that was the cure to his first and last big breakup, probably its effectiveness will have worn off. Moving around will just make him think of Jimmy more.

He’ll go to Guatamala and become a fisherman. He’ll live in a little shack with no telephone in the middle of nowhere where no one can find him and bug him. He’ll sit outside at night and smoke cigarettes and read and there won’t be anyone around for miles. His own little slice of heaven, post-Jimmy.

Caleb’s always liked friction. Cohesion is nice but it’s also boring. Him and Jimmy, when they’re getting along they’re still opposites and that’s just right for Caleb. When they’re not getting along so well – and that’s usually because Caleb’s pissed Jimmy off, when Caleb gets mad he goes quiet until it stops, he’s mastered the fine art of passive-aggressiveness – the differences between them are visceral and every time it makes Caleb want to kiss him. He’s not so sure if Jimmy likes friction. He thinks Jimmy might like a home and a wife and a baby.

Jimmy doesn’t know it, but he’s got the record for remaining in Caleb’s company for one continuous stretch of time.

Even with all that (or is it because of all that?) Caleb’s not looking for a way out. Nothing’s perfect for them and that kind of makes it perfect. Not just at the times when it’s easy to think things are not-perfect perfect. Not just when they’re lying around or they’re laughing or they’re walking around some London street. All the boring times as well, all the times when they’re waiting for a bus or trying to figure out what to have for dinner.

Eye love yew.

Caleb’s happy. He’s never been to England before.

Merry Christmas, my peeps!

2005-12-12T05:38:30Z

Ho, ho, ho! Caleb Claus is now open and taking present requests. Actually, it's more like you tell me you want a present and then I'll surprise you with a shiny gift! Could be a STOP sign, could be a pretty pink bow, could be a pony - you just don't know your luck. So step right up and leave your name. Come Christmas Day (or thereabouts, depending on the post and how late Caleb Claus is in getting them all sent) you'll be getting a super special present.

DISCLAIMER: Caleb Whiteside will not be held responsible for any damages caused by any presents received, nor will he be held legally responsible for any injuries that may be caused. By order of the Queen of England, bitches.

caleb_walks @ 2005-12-03T15:29:00

2005-12-03T04:37:53Z

They arrived back in London, Caleb drunk as a skunk with Jimmy in tow, just in time for Caleb to pass out in their hotel room and not wake up for eighteen hours. Sweet, dreamless sleep. When he woke up, Caleb proceeded to beg Jimmy for an aspirin, some toast and jam, a bazillion cups of strong black coffee, and tell him about the cracked out dream he just had about them turning into kittens and getting taken to live Orlando and Cordelia and then they dunked him in the bath and he turned back into a human and there were these two other kittens there and Orlando tried to feed them cat food and now his head hurts.

Jimmy has the oddest look on his face, but Caleb doesn't notice because he's holding his head and trying not to move so it doesn't start throbbing even worse. They must've drunk bottles of alcohol last night because he doesn't even remember doing it.

****

Hey everyone! I had the craziest dream last night. Kittens, man. Kittens. I think this haiku is suitable to describe it.

Mirror, mirror, on the wall.

2005-11-04T13:05:53Z

Personally, I'm not a big fan of mirrors. They never have anything good to say about my hair.

[locked]I used to daydream about mirrors. Not in a vain 'I could just stare at my own pretty reflection all day long' way. It was a game I used to play. Where my reflection wasn't just my image; the mirror was a window to another world. It wasn't a magical world, it was pretty much the same as this one only with a few things in reverse. On the other side of the mirror I'm left handed. It was like that old thing about everyone having a doppelganger. I used to daydream that I did have one, but instead of living on the other side of the world he lived on the other side of the mirror.

Sometimes I'd pretend to be left handed. So I was on the other side of the glass.

It sounds stupid. I got bored at home whenever we'd just moved and there hadn't been enough time to make new friends yet. And it was...well, it was nice knowing that if I looked in a mirror or a window or even a spoon, I'd see me looking back. Him looking back. If I put my hand against the mirror, he'd put his hand against the mirror. If I was lonely, he was lonely and then if we saw each other then neither of us were lonely for a while.

So, yeah. I used to do that. I don't do it so much anymore. ~~Just sometimes.~~[/locked]

Tammy Awards nominations - meta

2005-11-04T08:45:34Z

Most likely to be murdered soon? Which one of you bastards put my name up for that? Cordelia, I'm looking in your direction. Or maybe it was someone russian. I have bad history with all things russian.

More importantly, who the hell is queen_of_bees? Why are we an awful couple? Can she command the bees to attack people for me? Would I get free honey?

I want answers.

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