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justbeingaqueenWho: Kurt Hummel-Anderson and Blaine Hummel-Anderson
Where: Kurt and Quinn's (and now Blaine's) bungalow
Time of Day: A little while after THIS
Open or Closed: Closed
Despite being angry at them all, Kurt agreed to let Puck carry Blaine to the bungalow. As much as Kurt wanted to do that on his own, he didn't have the physical strength for it where Puck did. Everyone had followed along, but as soon as Blaine was safely delivered to the other bungalow, everyone made themselves scarce. The first thing Kurt did was help Blaine take a small bath, just to wash away all the stress since his arrival. From what he could tell, Blaine wouldn't have been in any condition to bathe and the way Blaine's head had rested against Kurt's arm while Kurt washed his hair, Kurt knew he enjoyed it. They didn't talk much beyond Blaine answering Kurt's soft questions about changing into his pyjamas, and then agreed to a cup of tea with some toast just to get something in his stomach. They both could do with that, so Kurt made them enough for both, his mind still reeling that Blaine was actually here.
But now Blaine was propped up in Kurt's bed - no, their bed - resting against a mound of pillows and covered in the light blankets conducive to the island heat. Blaine didn't seem to be feeling the heat, though, wanting the covers over him for the moment. Blaine was watching Kurt when he came into the room to sit down on the bed beside him. "How are you feeling, baby?" Kurt asked him softly and then gently dabbed some hemp oil lip balm on Blaine's dry and chapped lips for him. "We've got a lot to talk about, but not if you're still not feeling well. There's a glass of water here or a glass of orange juice if you feel like that. Tissues if you need them, or some moist towelettes if you want to freshen up. It gets hot and humid here. I can always turn the airconditioning up, or put a fan on."
He recapped the lip balm and put the little jar on the nightstand. After that, he gently took Blaine's hand and entwined their fingers, a soft sigh escaping him when that familiar warmth of touch seemed to take over him completely. "I missed you so much," he finally told Blaine in a whisper, the words hitching around a fight not to start crying again.
Where: Kurt and Quinn's (and now Blaine's) bungalow
Time of Day: A little while after THIS
Open or Closed: Closed
Despite being angry at them all, Kurt agreed to let Puck carry Blaine to the bungalow. As much as Kurt wanted to do that on his own, he didn't have the physical strength for it where Puck did. Everyone had followed along, but as soon as Blaine was safely delivered to the other bungalow, everyone made themselves scarce. The first thing Kurt did was help Blaine take a small bath, just to wash away all the stress since his arrival. From what he could tell, Blaine wouldn't have been in any condition to bathe and the way Blaine's head had rested against Kurt's arm while Kurt washed his hair, Kurt knew he enjoyed it. They didn't talk much beyond Blaine answering Kurt's soft questions about changing into his pyjamas, and then agreed to a cup of tea with some toast just to get something in his stomach. They both could do with that, so Kurt made them enough for both, his mind still reeling that Blaine was actually here.
But now Blaine was propped up in Kurt's bed - no, their bed - resting against a mound of pillows and covered in the light blankets conducive to the island heat. Blaine didn't seem to be feeling the heat, though, wanting the covers over him for the moment. Blaine was watching Kurt when he came into the room to sit down on the bed beside him. "How are you feeling, baby?" Kurt asked him softly and then gently dabbed some hemp oil lip balm on Blaine's dry and chapped lips for him. "We've got a lot to talk about, but not if you're still not feeling well. There's a glass of water here or a glass of orange juice if you feel like that. Tissues if you need them, or some moist towelettes if you want to freshen up. It gets hot and humid here. I can always turn the airconditioning up, or put a fan on."
He recapped the lip balm and put the little jar on the nightstand. After that, he gently took Blaine's hand and entwined their fingers, a soft sigh escaping him when that familiar warmth of touch seemed to take over him completely. "I missed you so much," he finally told Blaine in a whisper, the words hitching around a fight not to start crying again.
rockstarwarblerWho: Blaine Anderson, Noah Puckerman, Mike Chang, Kurt Hummel and Quinn Fabray
What: A whole new world
Where: Mike and Puck's Bungalow
When: About 24 hours after Blaine's arrival
The first thing Blaine was aware of when he woke up was that he was sore. All over sore, from head to toe. He was lying still, but it still had a thrumming ache throughout his body and he shifted, turning his head to the side a little with a soft mumbled moan as his consciousness of his body began to return. Hell, what was wrong? Was he sick? Hungover? There was a heavy awareness that he had a full bladder too, but he was too groggy and not quite with it enough to do anything about it yet. He got his eyes open to squinted cracks, but that was all he could manage at first.
He tried to move a little bit more, pushing at the blankets over his feet when that felt heavy and hot too. Hot. That's what he felt. Like he was burning up and overheating. It gave him the mental kick to work on shoving the covers down away from his face and he sucked in a quick, groggy breath as he rubbed at his eye with the heel of his palm. He felt like he had a really, really bad nightmare, but nothing was really joining up in his head yet. He wasn't aware it was because of the strong sedatives. He wasn't aware he was on a strange island in Puck's bed. He was sure of much else beyond his basic sensations right now.
"K... Kurt?" he mumbled thickly and got his eyes open just a little more to try and look around to see where he was.
What: A whole new world
Where: Mike and Puck's Bungalow
When: About 24 hours after Blaine's arrival
The first thing Blaine was aware of when he woke up was that he was sore. All over sore, from head to toe. He was lying still, but it still had a thrumming ache throughout his body and he shifted, turning his head to the side a little with a soft mumbled moan as his consciousness of his body began to return. Hell, what was wrong? Was he sick? Hungover? There was a heavy awareness that he had a full bladder too, but he was too groggy and not quite with it enough to do anything about it yet. He got his eyes open to squinted cracks, but that was all he could manage at first.
He tried to move a little bit more, pushing at the blankets over his feet when that felt heavy and hot too. Hot. That's what he felt. Like he was burning up and overheating. It gave him the mental kick to work on shoving the covers down away from his face and he sucked in a quick, groggy breath as he rubbed at his eye with the heel of his palm. He felt like he had a really, really bad nightmare, but nothing was really joining up in his head yet. He wasn't aware it was because of the strong sedatives. He wasn't aware he was on a strange island in Puck's bed. He was sure of much else beyond his basic sensations right now.
"K... Kurt?" he mumbled thickly and got his eyes open just a little more to try and look around to see where he was.
justbeingaqueenWho: Just Kurt
What: And time can do so much. Are you still mine?
Where: Kurt and Quinn's bungalow
When: Two weeks after his anniversary
The Glee bunch that had all ended up here on the island had a standing Karaoke date at the Karaoke bar every second Friday night. They never missed it, and they made a point of doing it to keep a connection to each other in this strange place so far away from home. Normally it would be a chance for Kurt to let his hair down and relax doing something he loved like singing his old songs with his good friends, but last night, it had all gone horribly wrong. He had been struggling to cope ever since his two year anniversary of not only his wedding, but his death and arrival on the island. Then Mercedes and Jeff had shown up, neither of them Blaine, and that compounded everything. To add insult to injury, he had been so distracted lately that the tattoo he got on his wedding ring finger had gotten infected when he didn't take care of it properly, and it meant that he couldn't wear his wedding ring right now. If he did, the infection just would have gotten worse and worse, and he had awful nightmares about losing his finger and never being able to wear his wedding ring again.
Then Mercedes came to see him. Nothing could have prepared him for that conversation. He hadn't wanted to see her because hearing from Puck that she was from after his death, he was scared to hear how Blaine was doing back there. He shouldn't have asked her. He should have just remained oblivious, but he snapped. He got angry at her, demanded she tell him what she knew about Blaine. So, she did. She told him. Blaine had been so distraught and alone that he had taken his own life, and Kurt broke down hearing the truth.
( He cried all night, and into the next day... )
What: And time can do so much. Are you still mine?
Where: Kurt and Quinn's bungalow
When: Two weeks after his anniversary
The Glee bunch that had all ended up here on the island had a standing Karaoke date at the Karaoke bar every second Friday night. They never missed it, and they made a point of doing it to keep a connection to each other in this strange place so far away from home. Normally it would be a chance for Kurt to let his hair down and relax doing something he loved like singing his old songs with his good friends, but last night, it had all gone horribly wrong. He had been struggling to cope ever since his two year anniversary of not only his wedding, but his death and arrival on the island. Then Mercedes and Jeff had shown up, neither of them Blaine, and that compounded everything. To add insult to injury, he had been so distracted lately that the tattoo he got on his wedding ring finger had gotten infected when he didn't take care of it properly, and it meant that he couldn't wear his wedding ring right now. If he did, the infection just would have gotten worse and worse, and he had awful nightmares about losing his finger and never being able to wear his wedding ring again.
Then Mercedes came to see him. Nothing could have prepared him for that conversation. He hadn't wanted to see her because hearing from Puck that she was from after his death, he was scared to hear how Blaine was doing back there. He shouldn't have asked her. He should have just remained oblivious, but he snapped. He got angry at her, demanded she tell him what she knew about Blaine. So, she did. She told him. Blaine had been so distraught and alone that he had taken his own life, and Kurt broke down hearing the truth.
( He cried all night, and into the next day... )
gotstarpowerWho: Mercedes Jones and Kurt Hummel
What: Facing the music
Where: Kurt & Quinn's bungalow
When: After dinner
It had been three days since Mercedes arrived on this island, and at Puck's request, she hadn't immediately approached Kurt, as much as her heart was yearning for it. It was still feeling near impossible for Mercedes to get her head around all of this, and once the shock started to abate a little, an exhausted grief over Blaine's death began to set in and she ended up just curling up in her resort room and sleeping the next few days away, letting herself cry like she needed to. It was confusing as all hell, but when she woke up that morning still on the beautiful island, reality over the situation began to set in. She got dressed, went outside and had promptly bumped into Mike Chang out by the pool. It had been a shock, because she hadn't seen him in years back home. Luckily he was typical Mike and more than willing to fill her in more on a few things now her mind was processing a little better.
That was when Mike went into a little more detail about Kurt here, including where on the island he was staying. Mike's description of Kurt had simply been, 'He's still Kurt, but with an emptiness. You have to play him by ear, no two days with Kurt are the same. One day, he might be just like he was back in school, and the next, barely able to look you in the eye.' Mercedes didn't know what to take of that. At least, until Mike had elaborated a little more. Kurt was dead back in the real world, Mercedes knew that much. Meaning, he was trapped here. There was no hoping he would go back to Blaine, he had to sit and hope Blaine would come here and every day that didn't happened, it was like a little more of Kurt was slipping away. Now it made more sense why her showing up and now Blaine wouldn't have gone down well if she surprised him. At the same time, Kurt had made no attempt to come to her and she wasn't a patient person. He couldn't avoid her on the island forever, right? She just wanted to see him again. See him breathing, hold his warm hand, experience him full of life again. The last she had seen him in the flesh, he had been covered on blood, pale, being moved from Blaine's arms onto an ambulance trolley where they covered him with a sheet. It was an image that would never, ever leave her.
Now she stood on the front stoop of said bungalow, wringing her hands in front of her right before she knocked on the door. According to Mike, Kurt's two year anniversary on the island and therefore two years since his death had just passed and Kurt had withdrawn from most of his friends this past week. He might now answer, and who could really blame him? But if it was Quinn who answered, Mercedes needed to see her just as much. Back home, it had been years for them too. They lost touch, and there wasn't a day that went by that Kurt didn't miss her.
What: Facing the music
Where: Kurt & Quinn's bungalow
When: After dinner
It had been three days since Mercedes arrived on this island, and at Puck's request, she hadn't immediately approached Kurt, as much as her heart was yearning for it. It was still feeling near impossible for Mercedes to get her head around all of this, and once the shock started to abate a little, an exhausted grief over Blaine's death began to set in and she ended up just curling up in her resort room and sleeping the next few days away, letting herself cry like she needed to. It was confusing as all hell, but when she woke up that morning still on the beautiful island, reality over the situation began to set in. She got dressed, went outside and had promptly bumped into Mike Chang out by the pool. It had been a shock, because she hadn't seen him in years back home. Luckily he was typical Mike and more than willing to fill her in more on a few things now her mind was processing a little better.
That was when Mike went into a little more detail about Kurt here, including where on the island he was staying. Mike's description of Kurt had simply been, 'He's still Kurt, but with an emptiness. You have to play him by ear, no two days with Kurt are the same. One day, he might be just like he was back in school, and the next, barely able to look you in the eye.' Mercedes didn't know what to take of that. At least, until Mike had elaborated a little more. Kurt was dead back in the real world, Mercedes knew that much. Meaning, he was trapped here. There was no hoping he would go back to Blaine, he had to sit and hope Blaine would come here and every day that didn't happened, it was like a little more of Kurt was slipping away. Now it made more sense why her showing up and now Blaine wouldn't have gone down well if she surprised him. At the same time, Kurt had made no attempt to come to her and she wasn't a patient person. He couldn't avoid her on the island forever, right? She just wanted to see him again. See him breathing, hold his warm hand, experience him full of life again. The last she had seen him in the flesh, he had been covered on blood, pale, being moved from Blaine's arms onto an ambulance trolley where they covered him with a sheet. It was an image that would never, ever leave her.
Now she stood on the front stoop of said bungalow, wringing her hands in front of her right before she knocked on the door. According to Mike, Kurt's two year anniversary on the island and therefore two years since his death had just passed and Kurt had withdrawn from most of his friends this past week. He might now answer, and who could really blame him? But if it was Quinn who answered, Mercedes needed to see her just as much. Back home, it had been years for them too. They lost touch, and there wasn't a day that went by that Kurt didn't miss her.
body_artistWho? Derrick Reynolds and open
Where? Shock Wave Tattoos
Time of day: Early afternoon
Open or closed: Open (multiple taggers welcome, we can just say that they came one after the other)
It was just after lunch time, and if he were honest, there was a part of Derrick that wanted to shut down early today and go back to his room and get some sleep. He was really full from lunch, and the overwhelming urge in his brain was to lock up shop, get back to his place, smoke up, and sleep for eight or ten hours. He was still recovering from his last trip to Hors de Prix a couple days before when he hadn't slept a fucking wink the whole night, just getting drunker and more high the whole time. Most people insisted that drinking and smoking weed were a bad mix, but Derrick had never had any trouble with it himself. Then again, intoxicating substances were a bit like mother's milk... almost literally, considering who his birth mother was. And the fact that he didn't do anything harder than weed or alcohol these days was a miracle in itself.
But, no. He wouldn't close the shop down early. Sleep would have to come later, whether he liked it or not. Sleep and that bag he'd bought from Silas earlier in the week. Yeah, that definitely sounded like more of a plan than staying around and working, but hey... A man had to eat, and that tended to require work.
Where? Shock Wave Tattoos
Time of day: Early afternoon
Open or closed: Open (multiple taggers welcome, we can just say that they came one after the other)
It was just after lunch time, and if he were honest, there was a part of Derrick that wanted to shut down early today and go back to his room and get some sleep. He was really full from lunch, and the overwhelming urge in his brain was to lock up shop, get back to his place, smoke up, and sleep for eight or ten hours. He was still recovering from his last trip to Hors de Prix a couple days before when he hadn't slept a fucking wink the whole night, just getting drunker and more high the whole time. Most people insisted that drinking and smoking weed were a bad mix, but Derrick had never had any trouble with it himself. Then again, intoxicating substances were a bit like mother's milk... almost literally, considering who his birth mother was. And the fact that he didn't do anything harder than weed or alcohol these days was a miracle in itself.
But, no. He wouldn't close the shop down early. Sleep would have to come later, whether he liked it or not. Sleep and that bag he'd bought from Silas earlier in the week. Yeah, that definitely sounded like more of a plan than staying around and working, but hey... A man had to eat, and that tended to require work.
warble_on_jeffWho? Jeff Hinton and Kurt Hummel
Where? The beach
Time of Day: Late afternoon
Open or Closed: CLOSED
The fact that Kurt and Blaine were getting married this weekend was a fact that Jeff was thrilled about. It was no question that his friends were well deserving of finally getting their happy ending with their gorgeous wedding. They'd fought so hard together for acceptance and a fair shot, and here they were, within a week of what was sure to be the happiest day of their life, and Jeff couldn't have been happier for them.
The joy for his friends, however, didn't mean that he was ready for himself and his other half to put a ring on it just yet. Of course he was crazy about Nick. Absolutely crazy about him. In fact, he was sure that one day, when they were a little older, they'd settle down themselves to the married life. But that sure as hell didn't mean right this minute, and Jeff couldn't for the life of him understand why the fuck this was suddenly such a big deal to Nick. They'd always had a bit more of a free spirited way of looking at life. No, that didn't mean that they were willing to share with other people by any means. But it did mean that their lives weren't as "normal" as some of their friends' lives, and Jeff loved that part of things. He loved that it was nothing for them to just decide to go travel for a week or two when they both could get time off work. Something about the concept of being married negated that side of things in Jeff's mind, and it was that particular concern that had him staring at Nick in shock when he asked him what he thought about their getting married.
What had ensued had been a hell of a fight, which, when it was over and done with, Jeff would wonder about. He and Nick very rarely fought in general, and they fact that they were, and badly, had Jeff worried. Unfortunately, when worry mixed with other emotions in his mind, it just came out as more hurt, anger, and irritation. And as it got worse and intensified, Jeff knew they were both saying hurtful things... Things that weren't quite like them, and things that they would apologize for later. And when the fight finally escalated to the point that Jeff knew he was out of line, and Nick was just trying to save face, suddenly, Jeff and Nick's living room disappeared, and with it, Nick himself.
The sound of waves washing over the shore quickly replaced the sound of Nick swearing in Italian, and Jeff's dark eyes showed about ninety different levels of shocked. That wasn't one of those nature sounds CDs that Nick listened to sometimes when he was painting. That was really and legitimately the sounds of waves on the shore. But the shore of what? Where the fuck was he?
And more importantly? Where the fuck was Nick?
Holding his hand up to shade his eyes from the sun, Jeff looked around in an utter panic, before calming down, if only momentarily. This had to be a dream, right? Just a really vivid dream? Jeff had serious ADHD, and maybe it had set up camp in his REM sleep. That had to be it. Because there was no other explanation to the fact that Jeff had been standing in his living room, yelling at the love of his life, and now he was standing on a beach that looked like something out of a movie.
Where? The beach
Time of Day: Late afternoon
Open or Closed: CLOSED
The fact that Kurt and Blaine were getting married this weekend was a fact that Jeff was thrilled about. It was no question that his friends were well deserving of finally getting their happy ending with their gorgeous wedding. They'd fought so hard together for acceptance and a fair shot, and here they were, within a week of what was sure to be the happiest day of their life, and Jeff couldn't have been happier for them.
The joy for his friends, however, didn't mean that he was ready for himself and his other half to put a ring on it just yet. Of course he was crazy about Nick. Absolutely crazy about him. In fact, he was sure that one day, when they were a little older, they'd settle down themselves to the married life. But that sure as hell didn't mean right this minute, and Jeff couldn't for the life of him understand why the fuck this was suddenly such a big deal to Nick. They'd always had a bit more of a free spirited way of looking at life. No, that didn't mean that they were willing to share with other people by any means. But it did mean that their lives weren't as "normal" as some of their friends' lives, and Jeff loved that part of things. He loved that it was nothing for them to just decide to go travel for a week or two when they both could get time off work. Something about the concept of being married negated that side of things in Jeff's mind, and it was that particular concern that had him staring at Nick in shock when he asked him what he thought about their getting married.
What had ensued had been a hell of a fight, which, when it was over and done with, Jeff would wonder about. He and Nick very rarely fought in general, and they fact that they were, and badly, had Jeff worried. Unfortunately, when worry mixed with other emotions in his mind, it just came out as more hurt, anger, and irritation. And as it got worse and intensified, Jeff knew they were both saying hurtful things... Things that weren't quite like them, and things that they would apologize for later. And when the fight finally escalated to the point that Jeff knew he was out of line, and Nick was just trying to save face, suddenly, Jeff and Nick's living room disappeared, and with it, Nick himself.
The sound of waves washing over the shore quickly replaced the sound of Nick swearing in Italian, and Jeff's dark eyes showed about ninety different levels of shocked. That wasn't one of those nature sounds CDs that Nick listened to sometimes when he was painting. That was really and legitimately the sounds of waves on the shore. But the shore of what? Where the fuck was he?
And more importantly? Where the fuck was Nick?
Holding his hand up to shade his eyes from the sun, Jeff looked around in an utter panic, before calming down, if only momentarily. This had to be a dream, right? Just a really vivid dream? Jeff had serious ADHD, and maybe it had set up camp in his REM sleep. That had to be it. Because there was no other explanation to the fact that Jeff had been standing in his living room, yelling at the love of his life, and now he was standing on a beach that looked like something out of a movie.
justbeingaqueenWho: Kurt Hummel and Quinn Fabray
Where: Bungalows @ The Resort
Time of Day: Just after sunrise
Open or Closed: CLOSED
Kurt Hummel was sitting out on the balcony of the bungalow he shared with old friend (and current fag hag), Quinn Fabray. A large photo album was lying open on the outdoor table and he swirled a thick gold band around the tip of his finger on top of the glossy page as he stared off out at the waves of the beach. With his other hand, he brought a glass of amber liquor with ice to his lips and took a long sip. He couldn't believe he had been on this damn island two years, and he couldn't believe he was stuck here.
The triple shot of straight scotch was strong, and burned his tongue and the back of his throat as he swallowed. The ice tinkled against the side of the glass as he set it back down on the table and then grabbed up a packet of cigarettes from nearby and was soon lighting one up, blowing a stream of smoke off to the side absentmindedly. Some days, he stupidly entertained the notion of getting out of this place, but it wasn't going to happen. Then he entertained the idea of someone coming here to him, but he had given up hope of that happening too. Initially, he had booked himself to the brim with appointments for fashion consults that day, but now it was here, he wasn't sure he could face trying to convince trumped up women with fake boobs that they looked fabulous in a string bikini, so he cancelled all of his appointments, pleading a terrible case of food poisoning. He would try and sleep the day away if he could, but his mind wouldn't switch off. So getting drunk and getting lung cancer was the next best thing.
Where: Bungalows @ The Resort
Time of Day: Just after sunrise
Open or Closed: CLOSED
Kurt Hummel was sitting out on the balcony of the bungalow he shared with old friend (and current fag hag), Quinn Fabray. A large photo album was lying open on the outdoor table and he swirled a thick gold band around the tip of his finger on top of the glossy page as he stared off out at the waves of the beach. With his other hand, he brought a glass of amber liquor with ice to his lips and took a long sip. He couldn't believe he had been on this damn island two years, and he couldn't believe he was stuck here.
The triple shot of straight scotch was strong, and burned his tongue and the back of his throat as he swallowed. The ice tinkled against the side of the glass as he set it back down on the table and then grabbed up a packet of cigarettes from nearby and was soon lighting one up, blowing a stream of smoke off to the side absentmindedly. Some days, he stupidly entertained the notion of getting out of this place, but it wasn't going to happen. Then he entertained the idea of someone coming here to him, but he had given up hope of that happening too. Initially, he had booked himself to the brim with appointments for fashion consults that day, but now it was here, he wasn't sure he could face trying to convince trumped up women with fake boobs that they looked fabulous in a string bikini, so he cancelled all of his appointments, pleading a terrible case of food poisoning. He would try and sleep the day away if he could, but his mind wouldn't switch off. So getting drunk and getting lung cancer was the next best thing.