caseybanning

[caseybanning]

Anthony Thieme (American, 1888–1954) - Circus at Night

[caseybanning]

Louise Glück, excerpt from “A Myth of Innocence,” in Averno

[caseybanning]

always an angel never a god

"not strong enough" by Boygenius

[caseybanning]

Stanislawa De Karlowska - Fried Fish Shop (ca. 1907)

Fried fish and chips shops were found in large numbers in London at this time. The food became a staple of a working-class diet. De Karlowska focuses on the figures queuing up to be served. There is a strong sense of London life glimpsed in passing. She also captures the fall of yellow gaslight, penetrating the gloom of the street. When the picture was first exhibited, a reviewer commented, ‘Restful indeed are the quiet subtle harmonies of blue and yellow, while the soft steamy oily atmosphere lifts the common ‘Fried Fish Shop’ into the realm of poetry.’ (source)

[caseybanning]

Cruz Merida has admitted their admiration for you. Are you willing to deepen your relationship?

“They say it over the promised dinner and treason. The first row’s eyebrows have begun to catch fire. They keep their eyes on the stage. They’re uncharacteristically flustered, especially given the lines that have already been crossed -- they pluck at the glove of one hand with the other. “Forgive me if I have been distant. I am fascinated by you. I didn’t want to fall into bed with you again until I told you this.””

The play, while engrossing, isn’t enough to fully distract from Cruz’s words but it does take a moment to fully register. One second Casey is almost absentmindedly fidgety, quietly thankful to not be sitting closer to the stage, and the next they realize there’s an important -- and vulnerable -- confession being made. It doesn’t come as a total surprise; Cruz as of late has seemed genuinely softer with each conversation. A far departure from their first meeting.

Casey weaves their fingers through en’s hand and pulls it to their mouth, returning the kiss now to Cruz’s hand they had received from en not long ago. “On such a treasonous occasion I’m opting for decorum, for now.” They reply. “But I am excited to see where this leads.”

[caseybanning]

Théo van Rysselberghe - Les Soeurs du peintre Schlobach (1884)

[caseybanning]

Was most of what I wrote probably unintelligible to actual experts? Most assuredly. Was it worth the weeks and weeks of research to try get a handle on what I wrote just enough to sound convincing? Probably. Either way, I succeed.

[caseybanning]

Charles Vetter - München, Auf dem Weg zum Ball (1892)

[caseybanning]

Casey says little when the conversation turns to the subject of the Masters, instead watching both Roland and Cruz quietly. They’re fidgeting with a teaspoon in one hand, almost as if they’d forgotten they were even holding it, but as the conversation changes to questions about Christmas eve their attention seems to come back to them.

“Yes, you’re always welcome for a morning cuppa,” Casey says. “Sometimes there’s also the chance of meeting either one of our aunts. My own will drop by as she sees fit or if she hears a bit of gossip the night before. She’ll absolutely explode if she doesn’t get to share it immediately with someone else. Roland’s less so--” A sudden questioning expression crosses their face as they look at him. “Or does she, and she’s just more polite about it?”

Roland lets Casey and Cruz have their humbugs, contented with the scene of two loved ones spending time together. “I'll never demand it of you both, but a little distraction can be fun. I will foist sweets on you, though.” He gives Cruz a quick little brush of his thumb when en squeezes his hand, delight visible in his posture. When Cruz describes their new lodgings, he stifles a small laugh imagining Cruz gently returning a stormy eyed person from the bath to en’s front door. “I would imagine Bellatriz would keep them out, but she might think it’s too funny to not let one in.” He stands up, heading to the kitchen. “Glad you asked, because they should be about perfect.” He returns with a cup of tea for Cruz, along with a tray of small teacakes, the scent of cherry mixed in with them. “I wanted to make something with a bit more fruit, but I’d used most of them after my last outing. Still, I had enough for these little ones.” Each teacake has a bright cherry in the center, some already staining the cake around them. “Have a couple,” Roland says, picking one up and leaving it within grabbing distance of Cruz, while Jasper looks at Casey like he hasn’t seen food in his entire life.

[caseybanning]

Otto Hesselbom - Christmas Eve at the Grave (1896)

[caseybanning]

“I feel like at least at the Royal Beth, wayward patrons are mostly harmless,” Casey says, leaning over to scratch Jasper behind the ears. “Knowing a tiger is inhabiting your quarters though will get word to spread quickly that you’d be best left alone.” They nick a teacake off of the tray and brake a small corner off, sneaking it to Jasper when Roland isn’t looking, and then take a bite.

“Also nothing a good tightening of the locks on the door couldn’t fix either,” They add after finishing their bite. “Admittedly I’m a bit particular about that, even with how much safer it is here than other places I’ve lived, but still... sometimes a bit of extra caution really can’t harm.”

Roland seems a little relieved to not have to suddenly house a tiger, and if he's seen Cruz acting like en's capable of joy, he hasn't shown it. If there's any indication he's watching en's feelings, it's his expression softening when en seems a little embarrassed.

He sits down in the chair next to Cruz, smiling when Jasper immediately puts his head in en's lap. "That's one of the things an invitation like that is for." He reaches over to offer a hand. "You're always welcome here." He looks over to the kitchen, where the smell of tea cakes is starting to become hard to ignore. "If for no other reason than to save us both from eating most of these ourselves."

[caseybanning]

“Some sort of wintery Christmas spectre seems to possess Roland at this time of year,” Casey says with a dramatic sigh, feigning exhaustion. “Some of us take to this season with more daytime naps and solitude, but with him it’s a revolving door of baked goods and other tidings. Still, company is always nice.”

Casey sits down in another chair in the parlour, coming back to a cup of tea they had set aside on a small table. “The Royal Beth is a very good upgrade,” They continue, switching subjects. “If anything, I think you’ll meet an array of people you could turn into characters for your writing.”

Roland walks from the kitchen, the faint smell of some baked good coming through. "Welcome in! I've started a little bit of a sweet for the cold, if you'd like." He walks to Cruz and takes en's hand, lifting it to his lips. "It's good to see you again. Let's get you by the heat and get you comfortable."

There's a softness to the greeting that's... well, domestic. The things Cruz may hear about Roland, the things Cruz knows about him, don't usually involve him in a warm tea gown and leading visitors by the hand. "Is Bellatriz accommodated? I can ensure jasper will not bother her." As if on cue, Jasper's face brushes against Cruz's hip with a big smile.

[caseybanning]

“We’ve more than enough room here,” Casey explains as they lead en inside. “And with the added benefit of safety both outside and within here. I am not in charge of the holiday baking so there is no risk of being poisoned.”

Settling in, they continue talking. “It’s good to hear you’re finally getting away from the den and hopefully into a home that’s a lot more comfortable?”

As Christmas approaches, visitors at any hour seem to increase by random degrees. Some days, it’s friendly carolers who just wish to share a song. Other times, it’s the post. There’s always a difficult dichotomy in Casey’s head about Christmas: putting up the happy front for others who earnestly just wish to spread holiday cheer, and the nagging dread of another difficult anniversary trailing not far behind. They’re not necessarily surprised to open the door and find Cruz towering in the doorway, but it’s such a departure from the types of visitors that have been coming around they’re quiet for half a second.

“Cruz!” They finally exclaim, stepping aside to welcome en in. The lacre outside was beginning again to fall in droves and they peer past en’s shoulder to glower at the weather. “It’s too cold for you to be standing around out there--come in. What brings you around?”

[caseybanning]

As Christmas approaches, visitors at any hour seem to increase by random degrees. Some days, it’s friendly carolers who just wish to share a song. Other times, it’s the post. There’s always a difficult dichotomy in Casey’s head about Christmas: putting up the happy front for others who earnestly just wish to spread holiday cheer, and the nagging dread of another difficult anniversary trailing not far behind. They’re not necessarily surprised to open the door and find Cruz towering in the doorway, but it’s such a departure from the types of visitors that have been coming around they’re quiet for half a second.

“Cruz!” They finally exclaim, stepping aside to welcome en in. The lacre outside was beginning again to fall in droves and they peer past en’s shoulder to glower at the weather. “It’s too cold for you to be standing around out there--come in. What brings you around?”

moving house

It's the night before Cruz is ready to move into their new accommodations. Bellatriz has gone ahead of them -- as soon as they had the key in their hand, in fact, with an imperious flick of the tail -- leaving them to box away what little they owned. But Cruz has always hated the moving itself. The work is trivial, but having to clean up their footprint from a place they've lived -- it forces them to reckon with things in ways they seldom have the answers for. The porters will come in the morning, and with their labor they shall discard one overgrown carapace and crawl into a new one, red and gold and splendid.

It is the sitting amongst their packaged life that is the damnable part.

Cruz runs out of little things to package and secure, boxes to lock, secrets to bury amongst their luggage. They are left at a loss. Once upon a time, they may have simply begun the moving process themself, picked up enough boxes to get through the night and brought them to the Royal Bethlehem for the morrow, but now... they did quite need the assistance of the porters.

One thing is for certain -- Cruz is not getting any sleep at home, in these empty rooms above the gambling-den that is noise and comfort both. They shrug a coat over their shoulders and button up. Company would do them good. Company in a spired place.

They know that the Bannings residence is where they will end up from the moment they set foot outside and lock the door. It still manages to surprise them, though. They hadn't sent a courier ahead or anything -- that would have implied any amount of foresight. They were busy people. Cruz hesitates a moment, but the moment's thought is not enough to keep them from rapping on the door, perilously keen for company.

[caseybanning]

Winter, Midnight, Childe Hassam, 1894

[caseybanning]

Their hand is raised up to wave goodbye, a confused smile on their face as they do so. “I mean--yes--either way, I hope you have a good night and I’ll see you again soon!” A beat. “It was good seeing you again.”

“Roommate... the tiger?” Casey asks, and then immediately backtracks. “You know, actually, that’s fair. I wouldn’t want to try to imply she’s merely an animal even while not in her presence.”

There’s a slightly awkward pause where Casey hesitates as well, knowing that their notes will need to be churned out into an article as soon as they’re home, but it still feels off to just leave Cruz hanging around alone so soon after en’s arrival back. “How about I drop off a copy of this--” They hold up the notebook. “Fresh off the presses? I could come by your lodgings.”

[caseybanning]

“Roommate... the tiger?” Casey asks, and then immediately backtracks. “You know, actually, that’s fair. I wouldn’t want to try to imply she’s merely an animal even while not in her presence.”

There’s a slightly awkward pause where Casey hesitates as well, knowing that their notes will need to be churned out into an article as soon as they’re home, but it still feels off to just leave Cruz hanging around alone so soon after en’s arrival back. “How about I drop off a copy of this--” They hold up the notebook. “Fresh off the presses? I could come by your lodgings.”

“Closure is a myth,” They say quietly. “I can’t tell you how many times over the years I’ve wanted to give up this search, especially after connecting with other people. After falling in love again, building up a new life, but there’s just this little... pit of rage over innocent families becoming collateral damage that remains. At the end of the day, James is still dead.” Casey looks at Cruz with almost a smile, but it’s tight-lipped. “I could avenge him a thousand times over but there’s always going to be some small, sad part of me that just wants their brother back.”

There’s a heavy pause as Casey idly drags the toe of their boot through a slushy lacre pile on the sidewalk. “I will say though, because I do believe we speculated if your brother’s murder was involved in this conspiracy, I can still keep you updated if I find any information relevant for you.”