tyler_gone: (* girl - come on now)
Right, so the sad thing was that Tyler had been on this merry-go-round called Fandom long enough that when he woke up female, he just figured he was past due for it. The only surprise was that instead of looking like that blonde cheerleader chick, he'd gained wavy chestnut hair and cheekbones to die for.

If he had to be a girl, this didn't suck as a way to look. After fruitlessly trying to reach Tony (Tyler was pretty sure he was sulking, for which Tyler wouldn't blame him), he went for a run, showered, and came to his office to do some work. He had a final to plan whether he had boobs or not.

[Open office, of course!]
tyler_gone: (Dark Tyler - bored)
So there'd been a date. Dinner, anyhow. And, given everything, it had gone ... not bad. Well enough to get them to bed, anyhow, and that had been fantastic.

The problem was, once they were all curled up and close in bed, Tyler fell asleep. And when he woke up from a dream about the feel of intestines slipping over his hands ... he wasn't the same Tyler, and Tony was in the lab blasting rock at a volume that would have made a teenager's ears bleed.

Also, Tyler was bored. "Jarvis?"

[OOC: For the person who let me mod him through sex, and his robot friend.]
tyler_gone: (sometimes I look cute)
The good thing about radio sharing how everyone kept falling asleep was that it made Tyler even more sure this wasn't a new and interesting form of his personal craziness.

Didn't make the dreams easier, though. Not when they were about torture, inappropriate interactions with students, stalking an ex-girlfriend, "science," and more torture. And sex with Veronica, which was its own kind of torture to think about.

The worst of it was, he could never be completely sure about the personal craziness thing. He had a long history of doing stuff he couldn't remember. That's why he was coming to stay with Tony; Jarvis could keep an eye on him overnight and sound an alarm if he ... well. If he went crazy.

It was, of course, totally about Jarvis.

"Thanks for letting me crash," he told Tony, mostly as a formality. It wasn't like he didn't end up over there pretty often anyhow.

[For he who lives there.]
tyler_gone: (meditating)
Tyler said goodbye to Estella.

Then he went home, eyes down, head full of a mass of thoughts that kept turning into cement and burying themselves in his stomach. he didn't want to be a father. He could only hope somewhere, somehow, Estella would turn out all right.

He grabbed some scotch and headed to Tony's place to talk about absolutely nothing of consequence for a few hours. Now it was the next morning, and he was lying awake on sheets that probably cost more than his rent, and the thoughts were back and turning his stomach to cement again.

Maybe if he didn't move, he'd fall back asleep.
tyler_gone: (at desk)
Tyler wasn't making much progress on his lesson plan for the week; he had gotten dragooned into a tea party with a very demanding five-year-old.

Anyone who looked in his office door for much of the morning would find the anarchist leader of Fight Club sitting cross-legged on the floor, wearing a construction paper hat decorated with wilting flowers and sipping Kool-aid from a paper cup.

"Keep your pinkie out, Daddy," Estella commanded, giggling.

Daddy obeyed.

[OOC: Open office door to visit Tyler or Estella, or to crash the tea party.]
tyler_gone: (at desk)
Tyler frowned at the empty Word document in which he was trying to type a lecture for Friday. It turned out even if you only wanted to talk about Pearl Harbor and Hiroshima, World War II was much, much too big to cover in one class.

He wondered if he could cheat and make the class watch a movie again. He was sure there was some Bruckheimer film out there...

The office door was open and he was rather desperately hoping for distraction.
tyler_gone: (at desk)
The first thing Tyler found out Monday morning was that a coffin was possibly his least favorite place to wake up. As he rose from it, he looked less like an elegant vampire and more like a panic-stricken man who regarded his first lungful of fresh air as something about 500 times better than sex.

After he stood around just breathing for a few minutes, there was nothing more to do than to prop the other coffin in the room open a tad in case anyone else who appreciated air was still inside and scurry to his office like the mere act of doing something normal would make the last two days vanish.

He probably should have been preparing for that week's class, but instead he was gulping down coffee and trying to compose "Sorry I bit you" apology notes to Miss Bennet and Tony, rather desperately hoping they might prove unnecessary. He hadn't exactly looked like himself.

[OOC: Open office!]
tyler_gone: (at desk)
Tyler's lip had been split over the weekend by a punch he had chosen not to duck, and it would probably be less tender if he stopped poking his tongue at it.

No, he didn't want to talk about why he'd found a fight in the first place.

Someday he had to find coping mechanisms better than picking a fight with some poor idiot. Stupid Tony, making him regress. Stupid him, caring what Tony did.

And now he was going to quit sulking, do some work for his class that week, and let himself try to be pleased that at least his phone message was good news.
tyler_gone: (at desk)
Tyler was cranky when he got to work, and had debated just staying home with the phone unplugged. It would spare him students randomly trying to get in touch to either hit on him, ask to kill things, or just be very confusing.

But home would mean eventually dealing with Lindsay. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he knew he didn't want to see her mad.

So he came to work and spent a lot of his morning just staring at the pile of papers on his desk. He was sure something in them would make sense, eventually.

[OOC: Open office! Tony thread going NWS.]
tyler_gone: (at desk)
A new semester and new class meant Tyler should probably actually go to his office and do work, especially since he still needed to brush up on his own history before he could inflict his knowledge on anyone else.

Mostly, this meant he was paging through A People's History of the United States and counting how many ways people who didn't look like him had gotten screwed over. The answer seemed to be "a lot."

The office door was open.
tyler_gone: (really rather intense)
Due to sheer boredom, Tyler had helped the pony up the stairs to his room.

Tony hadn't even complained too much.

He slumped on the floor of his room, back against the wall, flipping through some book about diseases and scratching the pony's ears every so often. He was wearing his new t-shirt because it was really freaking soft.

Definitely not the most exciting day before Christmas Eve Tyler had ever lived through, but at least there weren't any Salvation Army carollers to annoy him.
tyler_gone: (Try me)
Boxes. Tyler was sure his boxes had multiplied between the time he moved out of 33 Apocalypse and when he got to Lindsay's mansion. And no matter how many he unpacked, there still seemed to be more.

Which was why he was doing the sensible thing and sitting on the couch, watching the History channel, and drinking a beer. If he ignored the boxes long enough, they might even unpack themselves.

It never hurt to be hopeful in Fandom.

[OOC: For one, but open to housemate if she wants.]
tyler_gone: (Try me)
Tyler felt sore from yesterday's move, but gratified to have it over and done with. He rubbed his shoulder absently every so often as he bent his head over his preparations for the next class and the science fair.

This semester had flown.

[OOC: Open door, open office.]
tyler_gone: (at desk)
The first thing Tyler did when he got to his office today was to fasten the head of Smoochy to the wall over his desk, like some perverse big-game trophy.

The second thing was to grimace and swallow a palmful of Tylenols. Stretching and hammering things in was not the brightest idea given his cracked rib.

But being able to glance up at ol' Smooch's disembodied purple plushiness as he did his paperwork totally made it worth it.

[OOC; Open office!]
tyler_gone: (at desk)
Another Monday, another day in the office.

Thrilling.

Tyler spent it browsing vacation web sites. He needed to go someplace warm.

The door was open, and he was rather desperately hoping someone would stop in to distract him.
tyler_gone: (at desk)
Sir Tyler of Narnia -- and yes, he was totally that in his head today -- was at his desk, physically going through the motions of preparing for class this week. Mentally, he was in a different world.

Somehow he, the guy who wanted to blow up cities, had become sworn to protect the powerless. Being trusted with something like that ... it was cheesy. But it mattered.

Life took odd turns. And that was without considering ... whatever the hell was going on with Tony or with Parker.

He was glad he'd gone to the wedding.
tyler_gone: (perhaps praying)
It was Monday, which meant Tyler had to have office hours. So he was in his office; that was a given.

However, nothing said he had to actually work while he was there. Tyler was spending his time at his desk playing the stupidest Internet games he could find as part of an effort not to think about his weekend. (Though the kids' parents hadn't been all bad.)

His office door was open for anybody who wanted to bother him.
tyler_gone: (smirking)
Tyler had no idea why this seemed like a good idea. Marla and Tony at one table? He might have caused the apocalypse when he agreed to the meal.

It would be fine, he tried to convince himself as he stood by the hostess stand, waiting for everyone to arrive. And if it wasn't, well, he could always change his name again and take off.

The door opened and air rushed in .... )

[OOC: Up early for the sake of availability. Preplayed with [livejournal.com profile] not_ironmaiden, [livejournal.com profile] lots_of_olives, [livejournal.com profile] notwarmachine, and [livejournal.com profile] sincegradeskool. NFI, OOC= love]

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Tyler Durden

April 2015

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