Evan McCartney | 4 of Clubs (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bluntforces) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
houseofcards_rp2014-01-08 07:23 am
bluntforces) wrote in houseofcards_rp2014-01-08 07:23 am
[ota] you're gonna go far, kid
There are very few people, particularly in the Deck, who wouldn't describe Evan McCartney as 'an annoyingly happy camper.'
And he is happy. He's happy to be getting his degree sorted out. He's happy to be looking at jobs which will allow him to be productive--to actually use what bit of a brain he has properly, the way it's meant to be used. He's happy to be in love and waking up every morning next to the woman he's in love with. He's happy to run with the dogs and spend afternoons with his parents and run errands for his sister. He's even happy to get into fights with cousins who look down their noses and young idiots who need to get their heads out of a generation far too outdated to still be crafting culture.
He's happy. He's Evan McCartney.
But he's quiet these days. He's not entirely certain why. He's been singing less. Shouting less. Simply moderating his voice far better than he ever has, as if the concept of 'an indoor voice' has sunk in more than twenty years after being introduced. It sits funny in his shoulders.
So he does what he can. He gets up early to study; makes Riley breakfast and takes the dogs on a run. He goes to throw punches at bags until it's time to ice his shoulder and suck on his lip so the bleeding will stop. And he goes, ultimately, to lie on his back in the snowed-upon Green, because he's not entirely certain where to go when a body feels pensive.
Someone should teach him how to do 'pensive.'
And he is happy. He's happy to be getting his degree sorted out. He's happy to be looking at jobs which will allow him to be productive--to actually use what bit of a brain he has properly, the way it's meant to be used. He's happy to be in love and waking up every morning next to the woman he's in love with. He's happy to run with the dogs and spend afternoons with his parents and run errands for his sister. He's even happy to get into fights with cousins who look down their noses and young idiots who need to get their heads out of a generation far too outdated to still be crafting culture.
He's happy. He's Evan McCartney.
But he's quiet these days. He's not entirely certain why. He's been singing less. Shouting less. Simply moderating his voice far better than he ever has, as if the concept of 'an indoor voice' has sunk in more than twenty years after being introduced. It sits funny in his shoulders.
So he does what he can. He gets up early to study; makes Riley breakfast and takes the dogs on a run. He goes to throw punches at bags until it's time to ice his shoulder and suck on his lip so the bleeding will stop. And he goes, ultimately, to lie on his back in the snowed-upon Green, because he's not entirely certain where to go when a body feels pensive.
Someone should teach him how to do 'pensive.'
no subject
Which he was fairly certain would happen--possibly even sooner than later. Which would probably wait for a wedding ring, but how far along could that really be?
There's absolutely a relaxing of his shoulders as he listens. There's absolutely a comfortable slumping against her shoulder properly as she talks. There's nothing in the world like the friends a person takes with them out of childhood. "You sure, Tess?"
no subject
She decides not to tease him about finding a brain of suitable miniscule size. Now's not the time.
"Bet the kids can even go with you sometimes once they're older. If Riley comes along and all. Be good for 'em. How many of us are scared to venture Outside? Your kids won't be. They'll learn how to get along in both worlds." She guesses his work isn't as glamorous or tame as he'd like them all to think, but there must be occasions. Even if there weren't, there'd still be vacations.
no subject
And really, he knows she's right about being able to find a balance. He'd found a balance for staying close to Elani, hadn't he?
And to lovely friends like this one. Lovely friends who clearly needed to be flopped on in a proper pile of limbs and love. "How's things with you, then, 'f I don't have to be pouting around about my own stuff?"