a d a y d r e a m spills from my CORKED head, breaks free of my wooden NECK. left a nod over sleeping waves, like bobbing bait for bathing cod. floating flocks of candled SWANS slowly d r i f t across wax ponds. the men all played along to M A R C H I N G drums, and boy did they have fun; behind the SEA. they sang: so our matching legs are marching C L O C K S, and we're all too small to talk to GOD.
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oliviasgreenâ:
âso the thing is, iâm actually a little scared of heights,â olivia said with a sigh, eyeing the ferris wheel wistfully. âbut that looks like itâd be such a pretty view, and iâve had at least three shots already so i think i could be ready for it. think i need to have at least a moment of being away from here, you know, and that seems like just the way to do it.â
âthey arenât t-too bad,â he began, tilting his head as he looked up the ferris wheel, âheights - ferris wheels, both of them - itâs kind of uh, relaxing - i mean i always t-thought they were. probably would handle it better buzzed anyway,â in reality - they had no idea how theyâd react to being up on the ride, in an enclosed space with no escape; even for a short amount of time, it seemed daunting now. âitâd be a nice - photo, you know, at the v-very least.â
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ruthromanovâ:
Ruth just stared at him for a moment, fists clenched around the hem of her skirt as if needing something to stabilize her. It was hard not to feel sad talking to Cain these days and she was much more emotional than usual, sniffing and shrugging her shoulders. âGotta do everything just once, right?â she suggested. âGot any more good jokes for me?â
It was like he realized a mistake a moment too late - internally flinching at his bluntness. He often forgot that his disappearance was a sore subject, not something he could come home from and continue on like nothing had happened. He had hurt people - âI mean - uh - y-yeah, like yolo,â Cain kicked a pebble, awkwardly, hands shoved into his pockets, âUh - no, nah, nah - never been uh, much of a c-comedian anyway. I think Iâd get ... tomatoes thrown at me.â
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imessage - cain
leah: are you at the carnivalllll
cain: yes i'm currently teaching the youth how to juggle
cain: why
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ruthromanovâ:
âAre you in need of medical assistance?â Ruth questioned, eyes narrowing at Cain before turning her attention back to the man behind the booth. Huffing dramatically, Ruth shook her head. âIâm not a kid,â she replied, her protests sounding exactly like something that would leave the mouth of a child. âA lot of things are against God, Cain. Our names donât make us saints,â she replied. âI bought ecstasy,â she said after a moment. âYou ever done it?â
âNo - just cult withdrawals. Gonna soak in an ice b-bath later,â he joked with a flat voice. If things were like normal - if he were like normal - Cain mightâve flicked her nose in response to her protests. Instead, he just scoffed, âRight - yeah, âcourse. Not a k-kid. Full adult. The maturity of a great elder.â eyebrows raised - then furrowed immediately after, âI know. I donât - believe in God anymore - just, uh, jesting. Joking. Clowning a-around. Should probably return the red nose Iâve bought.â then - after a moment, âAh - donât remember. Pr-probably. I mean - at least once. Probably.â He felt as if maybe he shouldâve - been more alarmed at the fact sheâd bought ecstasy - and yet, nothing.
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ruthromanovâ:
âLeo,â she nodded her head, pealing the wrapper of a lollipop she purchased from a nearby tent. âYou got in a fight with him? Uh oh. How bad was it? Will I end up in the trunk of a car?â Rolling her eyes at Cainâs comments, Ruth shrugged. âMaybe⌠Maybe Iâm feeling like a Succubus tonight. Almost like an insect, in a way. Are you on drugs?â
âYeah, Flowerâs Fowlers - f-fuck, Fowlerâs Flowers - whatever.â it was a brief, blurry image inside his mind; sunflower petals and blood droplets in a parking lot - Cain made a visible expression of disdain, if only for a moment, âNah, d-dudes a twerp. Or was. Probably shouldnât - uh, judge him or whatever. Uh - Christ, right, okay - forgot you werenât a k-kid for a second there, go crazy, go wild or whatever everybodyâs been, uh, saying. Drugs are against God, Ruth - very off-off-fuckâs sake-offended youâd ask. Clean as a whistle, here, a brand new toy whistle.â
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ruthromanovâ:
Ruth approached Cain with all the incentive of an eager teenage girl preparing to ask for parental permission to go away for a weekend, gesturing toward the kissing booth where Leo was positioned behind. âWhat do you think of him?â she asked. âSinking my claws in soon.â @cainov
Much too high to process the carnival surrounding him ( heâd somehow manage to win himself a giant stuffed animal - it sat on the ground besides him like a faithful watchdog ) and only brought down back to earth at Ruthâs gesture - his eyes glided towards Leo, âAh -â Cain began, itching the back of his neck, â - thatâs, uh - f-fuck, Leo-pole or something, right? Think, uh - Iâve gotten into a fight with him, before, act-actually. God - what does that mean? You planning on ripping him to sh-shreds? Eat his head like a preying mantis?â
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savcgedâ:
heâd reached that stage of drunkenness that all he can taste is similar to that of burnt rubber on his tongue - he hated cheap whiskey but after finding out the news he had fled to the nearest bar to get himself drunk enough to come to terms with it all. she has no other biological family willing to take her in. strangely enough, the fury he felt toward the situation had set itself aside until now, and now his hand ached and bled after punching in a glass window on his way down the street toward cainâs place. he was notorious for not texting to let people know he was arriving at their house - but heâd texted him earlier. â cain!â he bangs his non-injured fist against the door, face as pale as a ghost from nothing but clear shock.Â
the text was unexpected - they hadnât spoken much since ... everything that had happened; both preoccupied with their lives. but it felt different - that text - felt rushed and panicked. it set off an alarm in cain, not quite sure what to expect besides the bang against the door. âchrist - youâre going to bring the door down with y-you,â he comments as he opens it - eyebrows immediately raising in concern at the sight of his old best friend, âchrist,â cain repeats, opening the door wider, âwhat happened?â eyes skip around outside, looking for bystanders - heâs been taking the app more seriously now since the vote; the poster left him anxious.Â
#â§ď˝Ľďž: is this what you call unholy? âž interactions#c:brooks#grief tw#violence#death implication
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imessage - cain
leah: hellllloooooo are you alive
cain: as alive as i can be
cain: which is very
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fvkmaeveâ:
her eyes glanced over the weathered pages, wondering what kind of life the novel had had before ending up int the brick and mortar store. âhangsaman is a book that earns its interesting connotation for sure.â maeve let out a slight laugh as she continued to organize the shelf.  âitâs about this seventeen year old who is unhappy with life and goes to college. however, when sheâs at her college, she starts going down a terrifying path and youâre never sure whatâs in her head and whatâs exactly happening.â eyes glanced over them, making sure her rambling hadnât bored them. âitâs actually loosely based on the disappearance of a real college sophomore, paula jean welden, in the 1940s.â
âsame author as the h-haunting of hill house - shirley jackson, right? and the lottery, now that i th-think about it.â they turned the book in their hands, nodding along as maeve spoke, â - ah, not sure if i c-could handle that, honestly. too many, uh, disappearances in cu-current time. you know? it sounds - well, still interesting. iâd probably like it - if we were in any other sort of cl-climate.â near reluctantly, cain slotted it into its proper spot on the shelf, resigned smile a ghost on their lips. âyouâve got a favorite story?â
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mvgnoliasâ:
Maggie enjoyed spending time in Cainâs bookshop, even though most of the books in there were so old she was afraid to touch them she liked the quiet, the easiness she felt around Cain, as she thumbed through her own copy of a book for an art history class. âTell me about the weirdest person youâve ever gotten in here. Iâm curious,â she asked, giving them a soft smile, head in her hand. @cainov
âHavenât been opened for too long,â they admitted, re-shelving a stack of returned books, treating each one with care - the occasionally flick-through when a particular title stood out to them, âbut - god, uh - I actually had this cou-couple come in last week, asked if I had any books on medieval BDSM because they wanted to sp-spice up their ... bedroom, life, I sâpose. They bought every one.â
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wickcddreamsâ:
Kaeden restrained himself from any further comment. After all, he knew nothing of catâs feelings but he was pretty sure theyâll be just fine. A dog was more prone to get affect by his ownerâs absence or so did the numerous stories about dogs waiting around hospital doors, graves, parks, old homes and so on suggest. On the other hand, there were none related to cats - like cats didnât really give a damn about their owners as long as they were provided with food and occasional snuggles. However, something else caught Kaeâs attention, letting those thoughts slip. âYou did?â He sounded surprised but then the guilt hit him harder than he was expecting. To be honest, despite their families relations the deputy harbored no bad feelings towards Cain. But his vote made him look like a complete douche. But the question was - if given the chance to go back, would he do anything differently? Probably not. So maybe he was a douche after all. âIf you ask me, everyone has enough on their plate on a daily basis.â His words were followed by a casual shrug. âEither is fine by me. Though, if youâre offering, given the circumstances, something stronger than those might come handy.â It was a joke, though, was it really? Kaeden chuckled but his gaze was serious.
They werenât expecting the sound of surprise - a slight eyebrow raise in response, âWhat was I going to do? Vote for my-myself? Like I said - wouldnât vote for Ariella, and voting for myself is a pity p-party. Didnât even know what was going to happen, h-honestly, though - but with the whole, uh,â Cain waved a hand, struggling to find the right words as they closed the door behind the darker haired man, âmurders - didnât wanna r-risk it.â They couldnât blame Kaeden for who he voted for - regardless of if they did vote for Ariella or not - their past was not rainbows and butterflies. Cain had, frankly, left a bad taste in the mouths of most people they ran into. âYeah but - itâs w-worse here, isnât it? Like thereâs something in the w-water, just making our lives shittier. Iâve got whiskey, if thatâs your th-thing. Youâre not on duty, right?â They headed towards the kitchen, dull thumps against carpet with every step, âOr - or coffee. Up to you, r-really.â
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oliviasgreenâ:
everything felt fragile around them, their entire world had fallen apart and they were barely starting to pick up the pieces only for this to throw it all down again. sheâd seen the headlines lately, the arrests, the app still causing havoc, still no clarity on michael and what had happened and who had done it, and it all just felt like too much for either of them to handle. she felt she should be grateful to have cain back, have at least his hand to hold through this mess, but he was different, things were different with them, and it didnât bring anything near steady to have him back. âcan i do it?â she asked quietly, having followed him to the bathroom. she could tell he didnât want her to touch him, kept recoiling every time she came near, and it seemed like that alone would make such a difference, if she could just reach out all the time and make sure he was really there, it was really him still. âplease, iâve been patching up wounds since â well, you know my luck with sports, it was more bruised knees and swollen lips than anything,â she said, trying for a smile, hoping to ligthen the mood even if just a little. âiâll be careful.â
the walk to the bathroom felt farther than it was - as if his vision were zoomed out, as if he was taller than he was - cain froze in the doorway of his bathroom, hand coming to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. âah -â he began, flicking the light on, âi donât - i donât th-think thatâs a good idea ... itâs not - god, itâs not y-you or anything, by any means - i just, uh -â there wasnât any good way to explain why she couldnât help him, why he couldnât bare to touch her - or anyone - there wasnât any good way to explain any of the things he had experienced in his year away. things just happened. they just, were. âitâll - itâll do more harm than good, t-trust me.â cain said, finally, standing in front of his sink and opening the medicine cabinet - a quick glimpse of his reflection. a gaunt face, dull eyes - lanky in the wrong places, clothes feeling too big for his frame. ââsides - iâve been, uh, learning.â
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savcgedâ:
    brooks lifts his hands up in a shrug, hand visibly injured from a smashed whiskey bottle earlier among other things. â to get some fucking work done, that was the idea.â he doesnât recognise the voice of his old best friend until he looks up and matches the face to the voice, features settling a little bit. â doesnât matter, right?â he scoffs and kicks the remnants of the laptop aside, clapping his hand down on cainâs shoulder as he walks past him to retrieve the bottle of vodka heâd been forced to settle for. â we never met up, huh? things got busy, my bad.â he laughs once, eyes either empty or sad as he catches the gaze of his friend - or ex friend - he didnât even know anymore.
âchrist, yeah - i can see that,â eyes trail towards brooksâ hand, âsee youâve gotten a-a lot d-done,â he feels - awkward? odd? misplaced - he feels misplaced, standing before his old friend. this doesnât feel like his environment anymore - heâd almost forgotten the anger that could come with brooks. a visible flinch as the other man clamps a hand down on his shoulder - cain moves away after a moment, with a shrug and hands shoved into pockets, âitâs ... all good - iâve had my own sh-shit to take care of, so ...â itâs been a long time but the look in brooksâ eyes feels different, brows furrowing. âare you ... okay?â
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imessage - cain
brooks: dude can we talk?
cain: like, actually this time?
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if livingstone was a sinking ship who would you save?
âA-ah ⌠my family, for one ⌠thatâs just obvious, th-though, right? Brooks ⌠always, and, uh, Olivia?â
( @savcged @oliviasgreen @lolitvasâ )
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fvkmaeveâ:
to most, stacking books all day would be mindless. for maeve: it was a second home. leave it to her when looking for a job while at college to find one at a little used bookstore nestled away downtown. she swore she could get lost in here for hours. each book had a history, each page had an owner. yes, the girl may have been one of those people who enjoyed the smell of books. as she continued to try and categorize the new donations, her eye couldnât help but wander over to the person about a foot away from her fingering through one of the books. âinteresting choice.â her voice small yet loud enough to be heard. âI mean, good choice. not interesting. well, I mean itâs interesting but interesting has such a negative connotation in this light because english is a weird language.â
itâd been long enough now that the journalists had finally stopped trying to shove their paper and pen, desperate for any sort of insight into cainâs situation, underneath the door of the bookstore; they were grateful for it - but now there were a seemingly never-ending stack of donations from the store being shut for the time that it was. they were meant to be helping - categorizing, but of course - wound up thumbing through a particularly old book; pages practically on the verge of turning to dust. âyeah? n-never read it,â cainâs eyes lifted, briefly, to glance towards their employee, smile small, âinterestingâs better than just g-good. rather be called interesting than it, anyhow. despite c-connotations. whatâs it about?â
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wickcddreamsâ:
No one knew heâs here. Everyone looked so fixated on cracking the app that Kaeden didnât even know if theyâve seen the news yet or if they even cared about them. There was no official order for the arrest of Cain yet or at least none heâd heard of. Which only brought him back to the question why was he here if there was no reason for it - the question the deputy still didnât have answer to. Still, he was amused by the words that left Cainâs lips. âYouâre more worried about your cats than the lurkers downstairs?â It showed in his tone even, though, it sounded reasonable - the cats Cain had connection with while the crowd downstairs were a bunch of strangers ready to turn him into a sensation. âI voted for you.â The confession slipped just like that. âAnd Iâm not here to arrest you, Iâm here to talk.â Not that he had any idea what they might talk about. Perhaps Cain could give him some clearance about the app and all of it but it could also turn out to be a dead end.
Unease weighed heavily ( on top of the previously mentioned avoidance and guilt ) on Cainâs shoulders - posture slumped as such, though they nodded semi-seriously, âWell, y-yeah. Donât know what kind of t-trauma thatâll leave on them. Dunno if I can afford cat th-therapy.â Really - they were trying not to think about the people downstairs; theyâd had enough for one day, had enough for the rest of their days, in fact. âAh.â Cain paused - just for a moment, nodding their head again, âYeah, th-thatâs reasonable. I didnât vote. Felt ... unfair. Ariellaâs - uh, got enough sh-shit on her plate, yeah?â There was noticeable hesitation before Cain opened the door wide enough to let the sheriffâs deputy in - wary of his words; he could change his mind, right? Even so - they had nothing to hide; at least, they had forgotten the password to the things they were hiding. âDo you want...tea...or something? Or coffee - you seem like a black c-coffee kind of guy.â
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