Re: [Carnival: Mars, Jamie, Si, David, Hannah]
Little sister, who was often late by design and never-ever early unless by complete accident, did not wear black. Margot's nickname was volcanic, an angry planet, a god of war, and Mars wore red. Just like how there were so many differences that could be sorted between the Mayer siblings, so too there were so many choices that one could settle upon for their trademark look when dealing with a family of reds. Mars did not shy toward mauves or magentas where some splash of blue might soften the red like an apology. The color red, like Mars herself, wasn't one for apologies. Like an act of arson started by a cherry bomb, it was that kind of red. Arterial spurt red. None of that old blood, muddy brick or rust-bucket red, no thank you. She was true red in a cozy turtleneck, a neatly flared plaid skirt, and Mars had on some warm tights along with little, bow-toed flats that marched her forward toward the congregation of familiars.
"What are you old hens gossiping about?" It'd been awhile since she'd seen them all, there'd been holidays and surgeries and recovery time since then. She thought that they all appeared rather the same: David looked spooky, Si loomed tall, and Hannah was... well, Hannah. Mars imagined that she looked the same too, but the truth was that she no longer seemed to walk the edge of impending illness. More of a flesh tone than pallor, and less likely to be tossed aside by a strong wind. She may have even been wearing a smile, an itty bitty one.