Repose

My Reposians, consider this a PSA: Don't opt yourself out. Life will do this for you without invitation, so if you want something, try, dudes and dudettes. If you like a girl, say hey. If you want a job, apply. If you think someone's after your man, buy some most awesome lipstick. Dudes, do not just give up. What's the worst that can happen? You lose? My dudes, you're going to lose anyway if you gracefully bow out before the curtain even falls.

No specifics here, so do not eat my entire ass tear me a new asshole for this post, my townspeople. Just lend me your ears, or your eyeballs, or whatever else absorbs advice from an unbiased guy.

(Edited at the advice of a dude in the know.)

ETA: Do not follow this advice in order to take over the world, my ladies and gents.

(ETA at the advice of my most sagacious sibling.)

[Sunday evening, the memories dissipate. It's not sudden or jarring. They close gently, ease away, end with whispers in minds and ears and behind eyelids. The evening is a quiet one, star-bright and pretty, and it's as if the world is trying to compensate for recent events. There is no sign of Corinthian or his nightmares, and the next morning dawns sunny and Springtime bright. There is no mention of recent events from Town Hall, Facility, or law enforcement; no one makes a legal declaration of any kind. The local churches, however, offer extra services throughout the day and late into the evening, and the Carnival offers free shows for those needing distraction. Throughout the day, other businesses in town follow suit, and by evening most of Repose displays open doors, bright porchlights, and freebies on the menus.]

[Locked to Jack P]
I thought you might like to know one of your memories was [...] about, recently.

Who: Misha & Damian
What: Going.
Where: Capital.
When: Immediately following this memory.
Warnings/Rating: TBD

Misha, he didn't ask. He didn't wait. he just took the boy he clung to, and he relocated them. He didn't go home to change, and he didn't even bother any stopping by the apartment in the Capital. One second, he was holding on real tight to Damian, standing outside the bar, and the next they were outside a big old house in the dead of night.

There weren't any more memories here, and Misha couldn't feel the frenetic heartbeats and glowing of folks feeling other people's worst and best things. Despite the Capital being full of folks, and full of a whole lot more folk, it was a real blessed quiet for the boy that clung real tight in his striped shirt and black jeans.

And, still, he held on like drowning. It was like he couldn't keep himself from it, though he tried to tell himself to peel away and let Damian breathe proper. But, Misha, he was still chilled from that hating, cold inside and out from it, and not feeling himself any. He didn't want to go into the big, unmarked house yet, not 'til he warmed, not 'til he felt sure Damian was real fine. It was old, the memory, and logical he knew that. He knew the memory was a real ways past, but knowing wasn't doing a whole lot to help just at present.

[And anon. She's a mess, herself, but...]

Hey. Everyone okay?

[Locked to Batfamily+]
[He includes Catalone, Nelson, and Sasha deliberately.]

If anyone has died, say so now.

[Locked to Naila a-K]
[In Arabic.] I saw your memory.

[Locked to Louis D, can be read by Misha B]
Tell me you are not injured once more.

[public]

so not sad the parade of awful is over. if it was like, ten percent okay to ninety percent shit? I would so be surprised.

[Clary residents]

is everyone OK?

[rogue families: Cat, Eddie, Steph]

so Jersey? totally looking like apple pie and white picket fences right now.

[Cat C]

All right?

[She's spent days nearly dug completely into the dirt of her garden. The morning after the memories fade, the plants around town that had died show signs of new sprouts coming out of the dirt next to the dried stems. The dead parts don't resurrect, but new growth appears.]

[Jeze and Rory, group lock]
I'm alright.

[Text to Reece E]
[Late. She's been gone from the apartment above the station since just after this memory hit.]

Boo.

[To Sam only, after everything has calmed.]

Are you and yours alright?

[Call: Manning T]

[Ring!]

[Misha]

Hey, angel.

[Atticus]

You want your room back?

[Claire J.]

So, hey. Sorry, how this is going to sound. Are you sure he's gone?

[Steve]

Want to order a pizza?

[Public.]

I need to thank a blonde in a restaurant that didn't get a chance to drink the champagne and this rock cat with wings.