Posts tagged aph: texas

With 10 months to the wedding, things had already become hectic. There were tastings to attend and venues to check out which took enough time, not to mention photographers, florists, and DJs to audition.

And, then, there was the officiant.

There was still a fight between them, though they tried to keep it to a minimum, over which country they’d be married in. It’d made every choice more difficult, but with the officiant there were added concerns. Secularism or lack thereof, affiliations, and only much later speaking ability. A few times they’d found officiants they’d liked, but the date they’d picked out was evidently the single most popular one for weddings.

With 9 months rapidly approaching, and a million more things left to do, they threw every spare moment they had into their search.

When the trade meeting broke for lunch, they had theirs ordered to the boardroom so they could use the hour as efficiently as possible. Surrounded by other representatives who thought the same thing for different reasons, they tried to live up to that possibility.

But soon, as they continued to find nothing but booked speakers and overly-critical requirements, Oliver put his head down.

“What if we can’t find someone?” he said. “Do we just cancel the ceremony?”

“Can’t do that,” Alex replied as he continued to flip through pages. “You know we can’t do that.”

‘What if we just did a courthouse thing?”

He wrinkled his nose. “You really want to go that impersonal? After everything we’re doing?”

“Guess we could hire an actor to wed us… though I don’t know if it’s even legal. They need to be a judge or ordained, right?”

“So I’ve read.”

“I was watching TV last night…”

Down the table, Lloyd didn’t look up from the spreadsheets he worked on. Still, it was obvious who he spoke to.

“There’s this website where you can get ordained for $15. Takes like 5 minutes.”

Alex let a teasing grin spread across his face. “Why Lloyd, are you really trying to help us get gay married?”

He scowled, and focused more firmly on his computer screen. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Did you want to preside over…”

Lloyd bared his teeth a bit as he looked over. “No!”

He laughed, and altered his search. “Well, guess now we just have to find someone who can talk. Someone who’s even more helpful than our friend here.”

“Right.” Oliver smiled, and nodded his thanks to Lloyd. He was fairly sure that there’d be a war if he made the Texan speak about this anymore.

Santa Ana had promised them freedom, were he allowed to live. He signed a treaty, and swore to provide whatever influence with Mexico he could. His homeland disavowed him, and any decision he might have made, almost immediately. The Texans, in response, made no haste in sending him back home.

There were far more important issues than the disgraced general. There were negotiations to handle with the US, a government to set up on no money, and a border to defend since Mexico was still grumbling. Most importantly, though, they had a promise to keep.

He rode out with his troops back to the Alamo, which stood as a solemn guard for what remained of the soldiers. The wind, rain, and scavengers had done away with a lot of them.

It was understood, without orders, that they were to start creating graves.

Years later, he created a monument that was generically placed because nobody had written down exactly where the dead had been buried. It hurt like hell, how ungrateful he was ate at him.

They were still on Texan soil, though, he supposed. That amounted to a lot.

aufigirl:

Happy late Birthday Liz~!! 

Sorry, it’s late. Hope you like it~!! :D

Thanks so much, I adore it!

The piper had stopped playing sometime within the trees. Lloyd could still hear the music in his head as he made his way across the water to slink through the field. The men about him had also gone silent, and they headed over hunch-backed. Their guns were gripped with sweating palms, and their feet dragged in caution. They looked for cover that simply wasn’t there, nor would it ever be. The Mexicans had picked a clever, if arrogant, spot where the surrounding land was flat and empty. They didn’t care they were easy to spot, they wanted their enemy to know where they were. It shouldn’t have been possible to sneak up on them, and yet that was the plan.

The camp was oddly quiet as they approached. The only men active seemed to be stray bits of the cavalry who fetched water bareback. There wasn’t even an equally lazy guard standing by, at least not that they could see. Perhaps the army was napping, though that didn’t make sense. The Texans just crouched a bit lower in the grass. There should already have been an alarm raised and shots fired, but there just wasn’t. They silently raised their rifles, and aimed into the camp which was so eerily still.

On signal they fired, and then hit the ground to reload as the sound of chaos whipped up within the Mexican camp. Shouts of pain and fear, the cries of dying men. And somewhere within that their own generals screamed at them to stand back up. The Mexicans were running.

Suddenly the restraint that had forced upon them was gone. All of the rage and tension poured out as they took chase. What little resistance had been put up was quickly quashed when the offending officers were shot off their horses.

They chased the men who’d shot their unarmed brethren  and shot them in the backs to return the favor. The ones who made it to the water were shot or held until they drowned.

Orders to stand down were ignored. They would take prisoners in the Mexican fashion.

By the time the troops had exhausted their lust for revenge, 1,000 men lay dead around them.

Those soldiers who’d survived the onslaught were rounded up like cattle. The injured were disarmed as they were sorted through.

Each one was interrogated. Where was their leader who slipped out in the fray? They were willing to start shooting until someone at least pointed which way Santa Anna had run.

There was a camp full of artillery, the Texans pointed out, in case they needed more persuasion. The men suddenly found it within them to begin calling another soldier, whose coat had been thrown on in a way that allowed his bejeweled cuff-links to show through, ‘El Presidente’.

(Meme is here)

The pecan tree in the far right corner of the pasture was by far Emilio’s favorite place in the world. Shady and private (without being overly so), it was the perfect place to lay down and chew a bit of cud. When he wasn’t being sent on assignment  which was unfortunately rare, he could spend nearly his entire day there.

It was also easy for Lloyd to find, which was an added bonus. The two had wandered into each other some time centuries before (neither one could remember how it’d happened, or why), and since then had acted more familial than most representatives did with their delivery animals. After so many years of toughing it out in the desert, it was nice to have the luxury of lounging under a tree with their stomachs full and water at the ready. It did, though, leave them open to far more trivial problems.

“It’s a chick thing, right?” Lloyd asked. He leaned his head back on Emilio’s side to watch the sky through the leaves. “I mean, he’s not going to really want to do anything, I think. And if I show up with chocolate and flowers, he’s gonna…”

Emilio turned his head a bit to give his companion a look.

“I know he’s a kid about candy, but he’s not gonna want one of the ones like… heart things that they sell,” Lloyd said. “He hates dancing, he’s not big on the fancy dinners, and there are no good movies out… And fuck, I don’t want to do anything like hockey for a while. Besides, heading out on Valentine’s Day gets a little…” His voice got softer. “People are gonna be noticing, don’t you think?”

It’d taken years for Ralph and Lloyd to admit anything to themselves, and decades beyond that to admit anything to each other. The thought of anybody else knowing, even though a lot more people did than were willing to admit it, was far too daunting to push. Especially on only the first Valentines they were accepting meant something.
“Maybe he’s gonna forget about it,” Lloyd said, after a while. “Wouldn’t be that strange for him, he drops stuff like that all the time. So if I just wait it out, I’ll be…” He scowled at the hard stare he was given. “The fuck do you know, anyway?”

One of Emilio’s strongest points was that he knew how bad Lloyd was at the middle ground. He either dove into things blind, or avoided them desperately. He needed a good push to budge from whichever end he’d dug his heels into, and bulls were particularly skilled at things like that.

Unfortunately for both of them they were moving deeper and deeper into uncharted waters. Lloyd’s reluctance to socialize had left him paranoid as an adult, and the more complex the world he couldn’t hide from became the more he realized he probably should be able to stand on his own. But, until he actually knew how to do that, Emilio patiently waited for the pout to subside.

When Lloyd was finally willing to look over, Emilio jerked his head towards the adjacent pasture. Quarter horses grazed lazily, with the occasional sizing-up glance of the cattle beside them.

“None of the books ever talked about just going riding,” he said, hesitantly. “You sure that’ll be fine?”

Emilio nodded, more because he knew how Ralph was than that he understood the holiday. He was a beer-and-pizza sort of guy, who would look at hitting a trail a hell of a lot more favorably than some fancy meal. Lloyd knew that better than most. But between the books and websites, and years of listening to couples far more traditional than the two of them would ever would be, somehow it’d stopped making sense.

When he continued to waver, Emilio gave Lloyd a smack with his tail. Lloyd hit him right back, but texted Ralph about a trail that was great in February.

(Meme is here)

(Also this particular piece is a one-shot, but I just realized that I always have Ralph as lead-dork in this relationship when they’re both equally awful. So we’re going to get both halves of the coin.)

*****

He’d seen it in a movie over the weekend, and was determined to pull it off just as well. A 69 of a kiss, where they guy hung upside down in a way that was dramatic, romantic, and seemed like a hell of a lot of fun. It was a perfect greeting when they’d spent far too long apart from each other.

After a lot of consideration, Ralph decided that the Poplar out back would be perfect for this. If someone wanted to check the gazebo, which Lloyd definitely would if he couldn’t find Ralph anywhere else, they had to walk under one of its lowest branches. ‘Lowest’ was the technical term, since it was high enough off the ground that it would be great for this trick.

Ralph shimmied up the tree, and applauded his own cleverness, as he waited for the Texan to exhaust all other options and head around to the backyard.

“Ralph?” He called. “You out here?”

He giggled a bit, and swung down perfectly timed to meet up. It would have been perfect except for a couple things. Firstly Ralph hadn’t been able to control how fast he moved, so the impact was a lot more forceful than he’d thought it might be. Secondly, and by far the most important, he’d over-estimated both how high the branch was and how much taller Lloyd was than him.

Instead of meeting lips, they met foreheads with a hard crack. Caught off guard, Lloyd lost his footing. He grabbed for the only thing his hand could find for balance, which was unfortunately Ralph’s collar, and brought them both down in a groaning heap.

Lloyd did his best to blink his contact back into place as he got his mind back in order. “You fucking idiot.”

“Worked in the movie…” Ralph pouted. He yelped when he was boxed in the ear.

The New York SPCA dealt almost exclusively with small animals. The largest were Great Danes, and even then they rarely popped up. Because of that they didn’t have stables of their own, unlike more rural operations, they had to rent stalls just outside the city on the rare occasion livestock popped up. Unfortunately, their single repeat offender (and it was considered an offender) made them constantly have to change where they rented from.

Any hope there was that they wouldn’t have to search again was lost as Alex got out of the cab to the sound of growling and bellowing. He met up with frazzled officers and barn staff, who had already done everything they could to make it stop. 

The most veteran of the officers hurried over as soon as he saw Alex, his face flushed furiously. “We can’t keep catching this one!” He snapped. Somehow, he seemed more stressed than the young staff around him. “He’s going to kill someone if we don’t…”

“You’re not putting him down,” Alex said, irritably. He didn’t add that he didn’t think they could, even if he gave them permission he didn’t have the authority to give. It’d probably just make them angrier. “I’ll handle it.”

“With all due respect, you said that last time,” the officer pointed out.

“Just go,” Alex snapped. He waited until the man reluctantly retreated into the barn before he headed deeper into the farm. He followed the sound of growling and banging to a round pen, and hesitantly leaned against the gate.

“Welcome back, Emilio.”

According to breeders, the Longhorn was one of the smartest and gentlest of breeds. Fine-tuned by the harsh Texan landscape, it became a lean and wily animal as good for a pet as it was for the table. Others, who bred for what they politely referred to as ‘feistiness’, pointed out that no feral animal survived very long by being sweet.

When it came to Emilio, Alex figured either way was conditional. On the ranch he’d take a saddle and let the youngest states ride him about. Anywhere else, especially when he’d traveled so far only to be lassoed, he tapped into the fire that his brethren had used to survive everything from famine to the society that tried to do away with them.

His black spotted markings, particularly the ones over his eyes, always seemed to give him a scowl. Right then, though, he was definitely livid. When he saw Alex, he pawed the ground and rammed the fence. The point of his horn landed only a half-inch from Alex’s hip.

“What are you mad at me for?” Alex asked, and pushed the horn back. “You’re the one who decided to stroll through the city. You should have waited for me at the house.”

The bull gave him a hard look until he grumbled.

“They’re getting used to random animals arriving at my house. The chance they’re going to call the officers is pretty low…” Alex’s brow pulled down at a snort. “Well, a lot less than city people, right?”

Emilio huffed and looked away, with his equivalent of a shrug.

“So, what did Lloyd force you up here for?” he asked, just as exhausted by the whole thing.

The Longhorn eyed him a bit longer, but moved so that the note that’d been attached to a chain around his neck could be removed. Alex read it over, and immediately balled it up.

“Does he just forget that email is a thing, or does he really need to put everyone through this much trouble just to say ‘I hate you, bye’?” he asked, furiously.

Alex hadn’t realized a bovine could put on such a readable ‘how do you think I feel?’ face.

He crumbled the note a bit more into the dirt. “Look, I’ll pay the board for tonight so you can get food and rest before you head back in the morning. Just, no more charging okay?”

Emilio snorted that they deserved it, but begrudgingly laid down for a much-needed nap. Alex headed off to make the arrangements. It’d cost more than it should, especially considering the bull was determined to never show anyone off Texan land what he could be like.

There was comfort, though, in knowing that the charge probably wouldn’t miss as soon as Emilio got back to Texas.

Lloyd returned straight to Texas after graduation. After a short courtship to a down-home girl, he had a rather lavish wedding. Together they bought a home, had a pair of children, and a few years later they had an amicable divorce. A bit too amicable, depending on who you asked about it.

Divorce was seen as disgraceful to begin with, and the suspiciousness around their attitudes didn’t change anyone’s mind. By then, though, Lloyd was into his mid-40’s. Between business competence and lineage, he had most of the financial reins. To call him out on nothing but grumblings would risk getting cut off, and nobody was willing to do that.

After a few years, his ex-wife remarried. It was a lavish wedding to another down-home man, and Lloyd made his well-wishes public. On his own end, despite his family’s best efforts, Lloyd seemed determined to remain an eternal bachelor.

The night of his ex’s wedding was spent drinking with a colleague. Nobody quite remembered where this one hailed from, but it definitely wasn’t Texas. He also called more than any of the other associates, and his business trips were significantly more frequent than any of the others as well (particularly to a partner so far away).

Stocks kept climbing, though, so again suspicions were reluctantly put aside  They just smiled as they eyed him, and knew full-well they’d probably never get any answers.