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  <id>tag:dreamwidth.org,2017-10-10:3299281</id>
  <title>Coby Ward</title>
  <subtitle>Coby Ward</subtitle>
  <author>
    <name>Coby Ward</name>
  </author>
  <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://st-rummer.dreamwidth.org/"/>
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  <updated>2019-08-24T22:18:23Z</updated>
  <dw:journal username="st_rummer" type="personal"/>
  <entry>
    <id>tag:dreamwidth.org,2017-10-10:3299281:2036</id>
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    <title>[text] are you there, curnen? it's me, coby</title>
    <published>2019-08-24T22:18:23Z</published>
    <updated>2019-08-24T22:18:23Z</updated>
    <category term="home again"/>
    <category term="curnen"/>
    <dw:security>public</dw:security>
    <dw:reply-count>0</dw:reply-count>
    <content type="html">Coby could just reach the phone on the nightstand without leaving Anael's arms, which was more than good with him. He pressed another kiss to the underside of his angel's jaw as he unlocked the phone, then before he let himself get distracted, thought about what to type.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;trying to decide if i should add a hotel california cover to my regular set lists. or maybe try writing a 'fuck off hotel california' song of my own. what do you think, butterfly?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reading over it again, he wasn't sure, but he hit send anyway. If Curnen didn't know what he was talking about, that would be something too. And if she didn't answer... eventually, either she wasn't around, she didn't have the same number that was in his phone, or she went back to &lt;em&gt;before&lt;/em&gt; and had no idea who he was. At least he had Anael with him, while he waited to find out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Curnen froze when she felt a phone buzz in her pocket. She hadn't known it was there, and for a moment she was only puzzled by the whole thing. "Sorry," she murmured, pulling it out and checking it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then she almost choked. She was not going mad. She was not going mad. "Coby."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;write it and i'll sing it with you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Followed almost immediately by--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;u all right? is jag with you?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With Anael there, Coby couldn't dwell on how long it might take for Curnen to answer, or what she might say when she did. But it was still a relief when his phone buzzed with a reply almost right away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;anael's here. i'm good. i'm assuming jag's having his own reunions, haven't checked yet. are YOU okay?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;with a friend&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Curnen wondered if maybe she should revise that, but. No. Akeem was lovely and she felt perfectly safe where she was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;not in needsville, thought i was losing my mind a bit, it's better now&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If she made herself laugh at it, it might become funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a friend meant she was safe, and if she wasn't in Needsville, did that mean...?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;london?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, because he knew kind of how she felt,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;thought i was too at first. still weird, but better&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh fuck, yeah he would. Curnen winced in sympathy. &lt;em&gt;yes. you too?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;yeah.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It just hit him, he could go visit his folks. Or maybe talk them into coming back to London. LA wasn't SLO, but he wasn't sure he was ready for more of any California.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;let me know if you need the address to the church again&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That didn't immediately make sense, but for the moment Curnen wasn't going to worry about it. &lt;em&gt;worry about it tomorrow?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;tomorrow. til then, you take care of you, songbird. call or text if you want.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;i will. love you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;❤ you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="https://www.dreamwidth.org/tools/commentcount?user=st_rummer&amp;ditemid=2036" width="30" height="12" alt="comment count unavailable" style="vertical-align: middle;"/&gt; comments</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>tag:dreamwidth.org,2017-10-10:3299281:1566</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://st-rummer.dreamwidth.org/1566.html"/>
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    <title>Powers Swap: Without You (Jag)</title>
    <published>2019-05-16T03:29:10Z</published>
    <updated>2019-05-16T03:29:10Z</updated>
    <category term="jag"/>
    <category term="powers swap"/>
    <dw:security>public</dw:security>
    <dw:reply-count>0</dw:reply-count>
    <content type="html">&lt;em&gt;Coby and Jag find some comfort in each other once they've gotten a little more used to the power swap.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="cut-wrapper"&gt;&lt;span style="display: none;" id="span-cuttag___1" class="cuttag"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b class="cut-open"&gt;(&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b class="cut-text"&gt;&lt;a href="https://st-rummer.dreamwidth.org/1566.html#cutid1"&gt;I'm real. This is. Focus on that.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b class="cut-close"&gt;&amp;nbsp;)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="display: none;" id="div-cuttag___1" aria-live="assertive"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="https://www.dreamwidth.org/tools/commentcount?user=st_rummer&amp;ditemid=1566" width="30" height="12" alt="comment count unavailable" style="vertical-align: middle;"/&gt; comments</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>tag:dreamwidth.org,2017-10-10:3299281:1374</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://st-rummer.dreamwidth.org/1374.html"/>
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    <title>Powers Swap: A Bed Full of Feelings (Coby, Curnen, Jag &amp; cameo by Jackson)</title>
    <published>2019-04-25T07:55:40Z</published>
    <updated>2019-04-25T07:56:01Z</updated>
    <category term="jag"/>
    <category term="curnen"/>
    <category term="powers swap"/>
    <dw:security>public</dw:security>
    <dw:reply-count>0</dw:reply-count>
    <content type="html">&lt;em&gt;It's not the first time Coby's woken up on the first of April to a big surprise, but this time he's not the only one thrown for a loop.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="cut-wrapper"&gt;&lt;span style="display: none;" id="span-cuttag___1" class="cuttag"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b class="cut-open"&gt;(&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b class="cut-text"&gt;&lt;a href="https://st-rummer.dreamwidth.org/1374.html#cutid1"&gt;Integrity's overrated.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b class="cut-close"&gt;&amp;nbsp;)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="display: none;" id="div-cuttag___1" aria-live="assertive"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="https://www.dreamwidth.org/tools/commentcount?user=st_rummer&amp;ditemid=1374" width="30" height="12" alt="comment count unavailable" style="vertical-align: middle;"/&gt; comments</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>tag:dreamwidth.org,2017-10-10:3299281:1160</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://st-rummer.dreamwidth.org/1160.html"/>
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    <title>Whoooo Are You? (w/Jag &amp; Curnen)</title>
    <published>2018-12-23T18:43:53Z</published>
    <updated>2018-12-23T18:43:53Z</updated>
    <category term="jag"/>
    <category term="curnen"/>
    <dw:security>public</dw:security>
    <dw:reply-count>0</dw:reply-count>
    <content type="html">&lt;em&gt;Coby had been stable way longer than he expected before finally showing signs of fraying over the past few months, and sometimes the only way out was through. But when he hit rock bottom and lost himself completely, he wasn't the one hurt most. Luckily he had Jag and Curnen to come back to.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Warning: dissociative fugue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="cut-wrapper"&gt;&lt;span style="display: none;" id="span-cuttag___1" class="cuttag"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b class="cut-open"&gt;(&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b class="cut-text"&gt;&lt;a href="https://st-rummer.dreamwidth.org/1160.html#cutid1"&gt;He's there, but it's... like he fell in a hole in his mind. He's pulled me out of mine before, we'll find a way to pull him out of his.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b class="cut-close"&gt;&amp;nbsp;)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="display: none;" id="div-cuttag___1" aria-live="assertive"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="https://www.dreamwidth.org/tools/commentcount?user=st_rummer&amp;ditemid=1160" width="30" height="12" alt="comment count unavailable" style="vertical-align: middle;"/&gt; comments</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>tag:dreamwidth.org,2017-10-10:3299281:836</id>
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    <title>[Jag] Be sure (nsfw)</title>
    <published>2018-06-18T21:17:32Z</published>
    <updated>2018-06-18T21:17:32Z</updated>
    <category term="jag"/>
    <category term="nsfw"/>
    <dw:security>public</dw:security>
    <dw:reply-count>0</dw:reply-count>
    <content type="html">&lt;em&gt;It wasn't just tequila's habit of turning Coby into a kissing bandit, and kissing Jag not only felt good, it felt like the start of something that had been a long time coming. And yeah, he's drunk, but he's not too drunk to know what he's doing and that he wants it as much as Jag does.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="cut-wrapper"&gt;&lt;span style="display: none;" id="span-cuttag___1" class="cuttag"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b class="cut-open"&gt;(&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b class="cut-text"&gt;&lt;a href="https://st-rummer.dreamwidth.org/836.html#cutid1"&gt;I'm sure. And I'm sure we're wearing too many clothes.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b class="cut-close"&gt;&amp;nbsp;)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="display: none;" id="div-cuttag___1" aria-live="assertive"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="https://www.dreamwidth.org/tools/commentcount?user=st_rummer&amp;ditemid=836" width="30" height="12" alt="comment count unavailable" style="vertical-align: middle;"/&gt; comments</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>tag:dreamwidth.org,2017-10-10:3299281:618</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://st-rummer.dreamwidth.org/618.html"/>
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    <title>for Jag - valentine's day</title>
    <published>2018-02-13T22:39:50Z</published>
    <updated>2018-02-16T19:35:32Z</updated>
    <category term="jag"/>
    <dw:security>public</dw:security>
    <dw:reply-count>91</dw:reply-count>
    <content type="html">Coby hadn't given much thought to Valentine's day other than knowing it was coming up – hard to miss when Caroline had exploded hearts and gold cherubs over every available surface – until he'd had to explain the holiday to Kash and his friend. It wasn't as though any of the people he was sleeping with would expect anything of him. As far as he knew, some of them weren't from worlds where Valentine's day was a thing, and even the ones who were knew he wasn't the exclusive type. He'd rather show them how he felt when he was with them anyway, because he felt it, not because some calendar told him too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Valentine's day was just a day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When that day came, though, being caught between happy couples happily coupling, unhappy singles who couldn't look forward to half-price chocolate, and fat foil babies with wings that felt creepier than the description, it all felt like a terrible way to spend the day. He'd gone down long enough to throw together things to eat, because he wasn't sad sack moping, but he didn't stick around. At least he'd been here long enough he'd learned to ignore the Valentine's pink of his hearts and romance room. It was as good a place as any to work on this song that was refusing to come together the way he knew it could. He sat at his keyboard, trying the melody over and over with slight tweaks, leaning over to make notes on a, yes pink, notepad he'd picked up at the gift shop, then sticking the pencil behind his ear to try another variation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="https://www.dreamwidth.org/tools/commentcount?user=st_rummer&amp;ditemid=618" width="30" height="12" alt="comment count unavailable" style="vertical-align: middle;"/&gt; comments</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>tag:dreamwidth.org,2017-10-10:3299281:311</id>
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    <title>for Corbie</title>
    <published>2017-12-09T19:17:47Z</published>
    <updated>2017-12-09T19:17:47Z</updated>
    <category term="corbie"/>
    <dw:security>public</dw:security>
    <dw:reply-count>64</dw:reply-count>
    <content type="html">&lt;a href="https://strangetrip.dreamwidth.org/35651.html?thread=2750531#cmt2750531"&gt;Curnen's bawdy song followed them&lt;/a&gt; for a way, but faded from their hearing well before they reached Coby's room. The sign on the door said &lt;em&gt;Tall &amp; Short&lt;/em&gt; and after using his key, Coby stood to one side so Corbie could enter first. "Barbie Dream House pink, circa, I don't know, 1990-something." The room was, as he'd hinted, &lt;a href="http://www.madonnainn.com/rooms/182.php"&gt;floor to ceiling&lt;/a&gt; pink, with only small amounts of cream or gold to keep it from being completely monochrome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="https://www.dreamwidth.org/tools/commentcount?user=st_rummer&amp;ditemid=311" width="30" height="12" alt="comment count unavailable" style="vertical-align: middle;"/&gt; comments</content>
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