Gregory Harran Strickland
Oct 13, 2011 17:34:26 GMT -5
Post by Gregory Strickland on Oct 13, 2011 17:34:26 GMT -5
The easy S T U F F . . .Name: Gregory Harran Strickland
Nickname: Greg
Age: Fifty Four
Member Group: Local
Power(s): Non-Powered (Architect)
Play By: Daniel CraigLet it F L O W . . .
August, 1975 – NY, Strickland Residence
He had to tell them before he left. His parents were standing there by the old beater they had given him as a kind of college present. They looked so happy, so proud. Never would he have predicted being ostracized by them.
“I love you guys,” he said, watching them smile even further. “We love you too son,” his dad said. This was going to be painful.
“I want to bring my boyfriend for Christmas." There, he had said it – without hesitation. Their smiles faded, his mother started crying, his dad was muttering about his only child, his only son being one of them.
He had never seen them again after that. At least he got to keep the car.
September, 1975 – NY, NYU
“Greg,” he said to the tall, dark, and handsome man sitting next to him. If they were going to be in the same linguistics class together, they might as well get to know each other.
The blonde was pretty friendly, pretty – radical. He was pretty sure he had seen this guy in the protests before. They had more in common than being in the same space at this very moment, it might be worth investing his time into.
The other guy smiled, which made him about ten times more attractive. “Sean.”
September, 1978 – NY, NYU
Josh was making goo goo eyes at Sean as he spoke to Daphne, the other Peacie. “Real subtle,” he said, making the younger man blush a little bit. He was too easy to control sometimes, but that didn’t make things any less fun.
“You think you could introduce me sometime?” Josh asked the blonde, a sheepish grin on his face. Greg had befriended him, taken him under his wing, and now he was falling for his best friend. “Sean likes a man who can hold his liquor down,” the blonde said, his blue eyes dark as he told the lie. Eventually he would introduce Josh to the rest of the Radicals, but not today.
Josh seemed to swallow it whole, looking over to Sean again, who had looked over from his place in the library and gave a small wave. Greg and Josh both waved back, the former holding a mischievous smile.
October, 1978 – NY, NYU
“What?” Greg asked Sean, as they witnessed Josh guzzle down yet another drink. Maybe he shouldn’t have, and Sean seemed to agree, but Greg knew if he egged him on just a bit more, comment on how he’d never had beer before in his life, the kid would drink it. Sean was giving Greg that look, like it was his fault Josh had taken the next drink.
“Aw, he’ll be fine,” the blonde said with mirth, taking another drink. “He drinks all the time! Isn’t that what you said Josh?” He patted the kid’s back hard, and moments later, he was vomiting, making Greg nearly spit out that drink he had in his mouth.
"Agh! The Frosh exploded!" Greg only laughed harder, shaking his head and downing another drink. “And tonight, he lives!”
November, 1979 – NY, NYU
“Come on Sean, I’ll get him this time,” Greg said with confidence upon entering the bar. They had just graduated and the blonde was feeling a bit - cocky, tonight.
But the night wouldn’t go as the blonde had it planned out in his mind. In fact, it would turn out quite differently.
“Cut it out faggot,” Dante finally said.
“Aw come on,” Greg said, still trying with the puppy dog look.
Suddenly there were a couple of men surrounding him, and the blonde had one last gulp of his drink. “You could’ve just said no, although most people do want my number...”
Then Sean tried to intervene, but that seemed only to provoke the men further. Suddenly he was pinned up against the wall, and his friend was being swung at. Thank you Sean He thought as hard as he could, before redirecting his attention to the guy pushing at his shoulders.
“I usually don’t let something like this happen until the second or third date, you-” Greg’s attacker hadn’t hesitated for a second in punching him in the mouth, making the blonde shut that which had been hit – mostly because it hurt, not because he didn’t have more to say.
But he wouldn’t get his chance, as the man released him, and then was huddled on the ground, no thanks to Greg. A grin sprung to the uninjured part of his mouth, and Sean was dragging him out of there faster than he could process what was going on.
“Well that was fun.”
April, 1981 – NY, NYU
“Congratulations Greg.” The blonde beamed, wrapping his slender arms around Sean. “Thanks for coming to my grad, I’m so happy to be done here, you know, start the rest of my life and all that.”
Sean smiled, “I guess there won’t be any more parties.” Greg stood with a small grin on his face, pushing his long blonde hair out of his eyes.
“Says who?”
June, 1989 – NY, Gregory’s Residence
“Things just aren’t going to work out Sam,” Greg said to his boyfriend, stroking the man’s face. Well, soon to be ex-boyfriend.
The brunette didn’t stay much longer, leaving the house.
Immediately Greg called Sean. “I couldn’t be with Sam anymore, he was just using me,” the blonde sighed, wiping at his face. “Ever since I started work on those new downtown buildings, he was just asking for this and that, being a little sweeter than normal...” His first real break up in a long time. He really thought he and Sam were going to make it for the long haul.
Sean had always been, and would also be, a voice of reason. Yes, Greg had pushed his friend into a lot of things, but they were always in it together. The blonde was even a little protective over the man, but that wasn’t the point. The point was they were equally loyal to one another, and Greg trusted Sean, even before he graduated with a psychologists degree.
January, 1995 – NY, Nightclub
“Happy New Year!” Everyone was shouting around Greg, who had come to the bar alone. Surprising, no?
His eyes glanced around the room, the glass of champagne in his hand going unclinked as those around him laughter or kissed.
A tap on his shoulder, and he turned to face Nathan, possibly the most handsome man he had every laid eyes on.
“Some party, huh?” He asked Greg, to which the blonde simply smiled. They had been co-workers for quite some time, and were causing quite the fuss at the office. It was borderline inappropriate, but no one could complain if only knowing stares were being given and were consensual.
“Did you follow me here Nate?” he asked in that notorious tone of his: flirtatious. The other man’s brown eyes held those of Greg’s.
“Maybe.”
The blonde was rendered speechless. Was he really responding to that line?
Should he push it further?
“It’s a little late for a New Year’s kiss bu-” It was Nate who stepped forward, kissing Greg like had always wanted to when they were in the office.
They were inseparable ever since.
August, 1997 – Las Vegas
“I do,” Greg said with tears in his eyes, before a kiss was shared between he and Nathan. Pulling away, the blonde took a look around him at the few people who were there with him in Vegas.
“No more parties, huh?” He asked Sean, his best friend, and now best man. Things had been hard for his friend, but today was about the love between the two men still embracing at the makeshift altar.
Greg couldn’t have envisioned a better place to marry his lover.
‘til death did they part.
March, 2000 – NY, Reunion Party
Greg was having a hell of a time showing off Nathan to everyone, especially when he ran into Sean.
“I didn’t think you would come,” he said, grinning. It was his job to cheer up his old friend. Not old in the sense that he was old, old as in they had known each other for some time.
Sean forced a smile, but soon they began to chat, catch up. Josh was here somewhere too, but apparently he wanted nothing more than to avoid Greg like the plague. His blue eyes glanced over at the man, chatting to someone he didn’t know. It was amazing to him how some people could change.
Nate was laughing at something Sean said, both men’s eyes crinkling in the corners. Greg smiled, taking a sip at the Pepsi he had in hand. The best things in life would never change.
August, 2007 – NY, Greg and Nate’s Residence
“Happy Anniversary lover,” Greg said, wrapping his arms around Nate while he stood behind him. “Ooo, blueberry pancakes?” He asked, kissing at the brunette’s earlobe.
Nathan laughed, “They’re still your favourite, right?” He asked, his eyes never leaving the breakfast he always made on their special day.
“I will never tire of them,” the blonde said, grabbing a good handful of Nate’s rear.
“I think we’ll have dessert after breakfast,” Nathan said good naturedly, causing Greg to laugh softly into his ear. “I don’t think anyone has dessert after breakfast but us.”
The two shared a kiss then, talked fondly about one another during breakfast, and rushed each other before anything could be cleaned up. They never did make it to the bedroom.
January, 2011 – NY, Greg and Nate’s Residence
“I’m not accusing you of anything,” Greg said simply to the brunette’s back. Nathan had been coming home late from work a lot lately. “I was just saying that we haven’t been spending a lot of time together lately.” Nate didn’t say anything, he simply carried on making supper.
Leaning against the kitchen door frame, Greg had his arms down, trying to look inviting (a little trick Sean had taught him). “Are you bored with me?” He asked, and Nathan finally turned around.
“No, I’ve just been busy.” He said, crossing his arms in front of him. He didn’t want to talk, he just wanted to have another meal in total silence. It was completely destroying Greg. Something was horribly wrong, and he was tired of being patient.
“Can’t we talk about what-”
“No, and we never will.”
Then Nate left.
It was the last time Greg laid eyes up his husband.
He cleaned up supper and threw it out, hearing the engine of brunette’s Toyota start up.
Greg wanted to go after him, but he knew he would be back. This wouldn’t be the first time he left like this. But he never returned that night, and Greg wasn’t about to skip work because Nathan was pissed.
Nathan would return later while Greg was at their workplace.
He decided to skip work, trying to decide how he was supposed to tell his husband that he just wanted some alone time to write his novel. Greg wasn't a writer on the side, he wouldn't understand. Nathan was the one at the house when the murderers showed up.
Greg would never forgive himself for that.
February, 2011 – NY, Greg’s Workplace
“There’s a phone call for you Mr. Strickland,” Greg took the wireless phone, hating to have to take his eye away from the sketches before him.
“What can I do for you?” He asked, his usually chipper tone reverberated through the phone, his ocean blue eyes still on the floor plans. He wasn’t really paying attention.
“-he was found in your office. He’s been murdered Mr. Strickland, and since you are his spouse, you must-”
Gregory Strickland dropped the phone, his hand still by his ear.
February, 2011 – NY, Police Station
“You might just be better off pleading guilty,” the lawyer said to him, searching through what seemed an endless amount of papers.
“I didn’t do it,” he said with umpteenth time, his clear blue eyes bloodshot and hazed. He didn’t want to have to do this, not ever, but especially not after being bailed out of jail for apparently murdering his husband.
“There isn’t a lick of evidence that points away from you-”
“We had a fight, he left the house...” God I shouldn’t even be talking about this... He’s gone... I never said I was sorry... We almost had a silver anniversary... Greg teared up again. “What about Sean? He bailed me out, and he’s a reputable psych-”
“Can’t be done, he’s a close friend. It’s no good.”
Letting his head fall to the desk, Greg was starting to feel his body starting to deteriorate into the frail man he would become in the next few months.
Life would never be the same without Nathan.
“There might not be enough evidence to put you on trial, we’re going to have to wait and see.” The lawyer said, but Greg wasn’t listening anymore. He just wanted him back.
September, 2011 - NY
“I can’t stay in New York anymore Sean, everything, it just reminds me...” Greg was crying, thankful to be on the phone with his long time friend.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can, and no, I’m not letting this go, I’m never letting this go. And don’t try that psycho babble on me, I’m not in the mood.” He hung up the phone carefully, glad to move his already packed bags closer to those who could be of some help, even though they would never be able to bring Nathan back.
October, 2011 – Pilot Ridge
“Hey, haven’t I seen you somewhere before?” Greg had just left the airport, and was currently sitting in a local coffee shop. The blonde waitress was looking him up and down in a way he might have enjoyed nearly thirty years ago.
“No,” he said simply, bitterly. He sipped at his black coffee, and she left him alone. I swear, if one more person says something about seeing me before I’m going to... He left the thought alone, sifting his fingers through his hair. He was not a murderer.
Greg would never be the same man he once was.Behind the M A S K . . .Name: Brebers
Age: 20
RP Experience: A few years, give or take.
How did you find us?: RPG-DShow your S K I L L S . . .Greg watched as Sean paced back and forth in front of him, a thoughtful hand on his chin.
“What, what is it?” the blonde asked, nearly falling off the edge of his seat. His friend had been acting strange ever since he introduced Josh to him.
Sean paused in his pacing, looking at Greg for a moment, and the blonde swore he was about to speak, but he just kept walking around in his small room.
Greg let out a long sigh, "I'm not a mind reader Sean, come on, spit it out." He stood up, standing in front of the brunette, who could use a serious hair cut.
"I'm not sure about Josh," he said, searching Greg's eyes as though the answer to how he felt about the younger man were there.
The blonde laughed, putting both hands on Sean's shoulders. "Relax, you won't have to do much, he's your duckling, remember?" That earned a small smile from Sean.
They totally liked each other.
"Don't say that again," Sean warned, before leaving Greg's dorm. The blonde sat on his bed before laying down on it, looking at the various posters in his room before putting his hands behind his head. "I should be a match maker."
