Repose

[Time-fuzz, because they were actually only gone a couple days.]

[Locked to the Mayers]
we're back.

[Locked to Hugh M]
we're back.

[Locked to Mara F+Am Hannah S]
we're back in town.

I got a muffin and a coconut latte for you. They're in the fridge.

[As Hannah S. The morning after Boise, from the hotel bathtub.]

[Group: Mars, Si, Jamie, David, Hugh, Marta, Caspar.]
Hi. Sorry. I don't know what happened, but I'm okay now.

[Caspar A]
I'll still pay, so that you won't tell your dad. Okay?

Who: Jamie & Mars Mayer
What: Moving day
Warnings: Nada

( This was like, a lot? Given the lack of family Christmases and birthdays and vacations and school days stacked up in the rear )

[Locked to Mars M]
[During this.]

Hi. Are you there?

[Locked to Billy K]
[After the Destiny news breaks, etc.]
hey.

[Locked to Jamie M]
hey, jamie.

[Locked to Mars M]
been busy?

[Locked Marta F]
am hannah came to see you, i heard.

Well, I for one won't be going near the lake again.

[Locked to Amy M]
hey.

[Locked to Mayers]
apparently there's radiation leaking into town or something ominous. how's everyone's day?

[Locked to Amy M]
hey.

[Locked to Jamie M]
how'd it go?

[Locked to Mars M]
hey, mars.

[Public, after visiting the rec center.]

I was curious and curious and curious about why people never said things the clear way. Why not say what you feel? Why not just be honest? Why lies and secrets and pretty dances? And I've realized that it's just that no one wants to be disliked, and so they twist and turn and tie themselves in knots saying things they think are the right thing, instead of saying the things that are true. But, why? Why, why, why, when then people get to know someone who isn't you at all? Why offer flawless when you're not, or do you believe you are? And I think that too now. That some people can convince themselves, and the truth is you'll never, ever know anyone else unless you know their truth, and you'll never know their truth if you don't stop and listen and stop wording your defenses before they're even done telling you how they feel.

And, another thing, tarnish is beautiful. Shadows are beautiful. Divots and cracks and shattered things are beautiful. No one really wants the perfect thing. Perfect things are like dull surfaces and not real at all. Real is always better.

The end.

[Call: Amy M]
[Almost a full 24-hours later. Ring.]

[Locked to Mars M]
hey, mars.

Who: Everyone! Anyone!
What: Travis' bonfire.
Where: Lakefront, behind Mason's home.
When: Nowish/Night
Warnings/Rating/Add'l: Anything goes. In headers place: locations, warnings, indication whether a thread is open.

( The bonfire. )

Who: Mars & Nel
What: First day of work
Where: (After)Life
When: Nowish
Warnings/Rating: Nel intends to eat no one during this log

Nel had just finished a shoot. Her client, a high-fashion model from New York, was now safely in the limousine that had brought her from the Capital's airport to Repose; the too-thin waif was now nothing save a memory on gelatin emulsion.

The shoot had been a rather early one, but one did what one needed to do. Models were notoriously difficult to accommodate, and waking early was nothing to Nel. She wasn't a sleeper at all these days, and night rolled into morning light with little notice on her part. She'd even forgotten that Mars was coming, and this was precisely why she required an assistant. Her choice of assistant was, of course, rather deliberate. She knew Lear was spending quite a bit of time with Mars, and she'd a vested interested. Also, the girl had proved somewhat interesting during the entire Christmas gift exchange, which was all the more reason to bring her into the fold. Nel seldom found anyone unrelated to her truly interesting, but she was curious as to what her brother saw in this one little girl living in this one little town.

Currently, Nel was sitting on her couch in white, knee over knee and feet bare. She'd not yet begun to process the day's film. Instead, she was seated, a drink in her hand and a cigarillo burning down in the ashtray beside her. The door was unlocked, and moody music played as Nel paged through a magazine, one which featured her work on the cover and center spread.

ISO the whack-job who chopped off his fingers in a glass box in space because you are definitely going to have to pay for my fucking therapy after that, dude.

[Locked to Mayers+]
is everyone okay?

[Locked to Destiny S]
hey, i just wanted to check in.

[Public]
[After seeing this and wondering... what if...? As Si M.]
if you were rescued at sea by a pirate, [...] sorry.

Who: The Mayer Family (yes, David, that includes you.)
What: An attempt at interaction
Where: The Carnival
When: Nowish
Warnings/Rating: Maybe A for anger. Maybe G for ghosts. Possibly K for kidneys. And C for clowns.

It would be an understatement to say Hannah was dressed somberly. Black, black, black, and it kind of fit her mood. She was a mess of emotions in a morass of unknown matter. She had no idea what CARNEM had in store, and she was a whirl-twirl-spin of confusion about who she was. Jamie had said she wasn't herself, and she'd almost called her dad to talk to him. Amy had talked to him a lot, even when the others had stopped, and Hannah thought it couldn't really do any harm, could it? So he'd think Amy was alive, so what?, and maybe it would make him happy. Because her memories of him weren't completely terrible. They weren't, and she didn't hate him, and maybe she just wanted one tiny moment of being who she'd been.

But she didn't call. She dressed in black, black, black, and she took the bus back to town, just like she did every day. And right now, she was just answering phones. "Hi, you've reached the Albin Dream Clinic, how can I direct your call?" But that was temporary, and she was glad to be back in her little trailer once the day was done. At least she wasn't expected to stay in the Capital every night. Here, weird and strange and in pieces, it was home now. Home, home, home, and she thought the word as she stepped, stepped, stepped beneath the Carnival arch.

It was dark, and the Carnival was mostly empty and mostly cold, but the lights on the rights were neon beckons, and Hannah walked toward the carousel and waited for her siblings to arrive as she thought about life's tendency to spin in technicolor circles.

[Mayers+]

Hey so I think we need some like, actual family time. Is everyone in for the Carnival on the outside of town?

[Mayers]

What the fuck?

[Delivery: Hannah S]
[Delivered to Hannah's trailer is just a CD. There's no case, no anything.]

[Locked to Destiny S]
hey, boss.

[Locked to Mayers+]
share whatever song you're listening to the most right now.

[Public]
i'm looking for whoever i gave a deathdate to.

I wake and feel the fell of dark, not day.
What hours, O what black hours we have spent
This night! what sights you, heart, saw; ways you went!
And more must, in yet longer light's delay.
With witness I speak this. But where I say
Hours I mean years, mean life. And my lament
Is cries countless, cries like dead letters sent
To dearest him that lives alas! away.

I am gall, I am heartburn. God's most deep decree
Bitter would have me taste: my taste was me;
Bones built in me, flesh filled, blood brimmed the curse.
Selfyeast of spirit a dull dough sours. I see
The lost are like this, and their scourge to be
As I am mine, their sweating selves; but worse.

- Gerard Manley Hopkins

It has been a month since the last poem, so here I am again. Twenty days into the new year and I'm not sure what to make of it. Of course, it is too early to tell.

If someone has a recommendation for a horror movie, preferably playing at the theatre, I would appreciate it.