m0rbidity

[m0rbidity]

So that was what the old farts around here were like? She couldn't help but laugh at how he tried so desperately to use gender-neutral language, how he overcorrected and seemed so eager to please her with nothing short of wokeness. It was funny, really, and harmless, but it absolutely aged the Irishman in her eyes. Dated, weird and somehow familiar.

"Is it the choice of drink? I'm a girl, but it's nice to know anyone gets to piss in here. Great job,"

As Íde spoke, she pulled a seat from the bar and studied him keenly, something so bright and curious and dangerous in her furrowed squint. People had always said she was observant, like she'd been born with eyes a little too old and experienced, but they never had a clue about the extent of it. But somehow, he saw something in her too, or more accurately heard something in her accent, and the young medium raised an eyebrow.

"Makes sense. You sound like you're from just south of Dublin, probably seen the mountains and the bay at least once in your life. Haunted lighthouse... it's not all that, though. Not exactly the height of excitement like it clearly is round here. And yeah, you could say I'm new round here. Driving through country Kerry one minute, this place the next, start of the month. Are you people always this... mad?"

When Íde finally stopped speaking, she gasped slightly for air, something which was quickly accompanied by a long swig of her drink. If she closed her eyes, it'd almost be like she was back home, wherever that even was anymore.

"Surprised you didn't check my drivers license. Not that I get that a lot at home anymore, but y'know... force of habit sometimes. How's that supposed to work with dead people?"

he  understood  that  religion  wasn’t  for  everyone.  it  was  something  calahan  had  learned  —  at  first  he  was  rigid  in  his  ways,  steadfast  and  unbending  in  his  beliefs,  but  liam  was  good  for  many  things  in  the  vampire’s  life.  keeping  him  up  to  date  on  everything  he’d  missed  was  an  unexpected  benefit.  it  took  weeks  for  him  to  figure  out  emojis,  and  memes,  and  he  was  still  trying  to  get  his  head  around  siri.  there  were  some  things  that  liam  could  never  encourage  out  of  him  —  his  collection  of  vintage  suits,  for  one  —  but  at  the  very  least  he  was  a  little  less  conservative  than  he  had  once  been. and  yet,  he  remained  pious.  god  told  his  children  to  love  thy  neighbor,  that  every  human  was  made  in  his  image  despite  any  differences.  it  had  been  hard  to  unlearn,  hard  to  rewire  what  had  been  drilled  into  him,  but  calahan  was  a  good  man.  besides,  he  wanted  to  be  down  with  the  kids  for  his  new  daughter.  he  scrunched  his  nose  and  attempted  his  best  joking  expression.  “sometimes  its  difficult  to  get  werewolves  to  aim  properly.  they  have  a  fascination  with  relieving  themselves  in  the  corner  of  the  room.  a  territory  thing,  i  think.  i  never  fully  understood  wolves.” when  he  was  alone  again,  briefly,  he  poured  that  promised  beer,  wiping  down  the  counter  and  trying  to  buff  out  a  smear  that  had  likely  been  left  by  one  of  the  patrons  the  evening  before.  it  wasn’t  what  he  was  meant  to  do  —  as  the  owner,  calahan  should  have  really  stayed  in  the  back  counting  numbers  and  making  sure  his  employees  were  doing  their  job  —  but  more  often  than  he’d  care  to  admit  he  was  front - of - house.  the  haunt  was  his  child  as  much  as  kanda  was.  no,  it  wasn’t  the  up-market  establishment  that  he  had  envisioned,  but  it  was  his.  a  bite  to  the  neck  had  taken  everything  from  calahan.  the  life  he  had  rebuilt  would  need  to  be  prised  from  his  cold,  undead  hands. “don’t  worry  about  it.  think  of  it  as  my  welcome  gift.  one  irishman  to  another.  or  …  irishwoman,”  he  waved  his  hand  in  the  direction  of  the  other,  “irishperson.”  what  was  the  word  for  it ?  woke ?  was  he  being  too  woke ?  calahan  shook  his  head  as  if  to  answer  his  own  question.  “wicklow,  is  it ?  beautiful  place.  i  know  it  well.”  he  had  only  been  back  to  ireland  recently.  a  trip  with  him  and  liam.  he  hadn’t  been  able  to  return  before,  not  when  his  brothers  had  been  walking  the  earth.  but  they  had  lived,  married,  had  children  of  their  own,  and  died  peacefully  …  all  things  that  had  been  stolen  from  calahan  the  moment  he  wrote  his  name  on  the  dotted  line  and  held  a  gun  in  his  hands. “have  you  just  arrived ? ”  he  asked,  “it  can  be  a  strange  place  to  get  used  to.  i’m  open  to  any  questions.”

[m0rbidity]

"You fuckin' wally,"

Oh, how she loved using that one. Meena's mates in Portum loved her overuse of typically English expressions, Wally among them, and it just so happened to be that his name was... well, one of those very same expressions. "Wally: endearing British slang for an idiot." It was fitting, wasn't it?

She'd been walking with him, back from a night of drinking and not a lot else. The vampire herself was, admittedly, just as drunk as her friend was, but sprinted after him in her ridiculously high heels all the same, giggling much more than she knew she should be.

"Trust you to end up in the rubbish on a night out," she said, peering over the edge of the thing with something between hysteria and disgust on her face - far too dolled up to be in a place like this. But still, a manicured hand reached down for him.

"Need a hand?"

wally loved teleporting. it was easily his favorite power, even though it was in his more angelic powerset. it was too convenient to resent… until today. everyone in portum has had their powers go haywire lately, and for wally it mainly came in the form of terrible, horrible headaches. unfortunately, the powers that be decided to fuck with his favorite power next. he had just left spell & bourbon very inebriated, and whenever he left the establishment in this state (assuming that he wasn't about to go do adult activities with someone), his usual go-to was to teleport home. well, somehow home translated to some fuckass dumpster in god-knows-where. it wasn't even a soft landing- he didn't just appear already laying on the dumpster, he teleported above the damn thing and was unceremoniously dropped into it. after a painful thud and a loud groan accompanied by the rustle of trash bags on impact, wally's drunken mind decided to wait until someone fishes him out.  

closed starter for @m0rbidity !!

[m0rbidity]

Oh, Íde knew all too well what ghosts could be like. Outside of Portum, she'd never really met any settled or content ghosts. Perhaps that was just because of where she came from — a country full of ancient Celtic spirits and those who'd died in the last few hundred years. Those who stuck around tended to be a little more bitter, those gloomy remnants of British rule, or a world before Christianity, or something else that was traumatic and suitably miserable. She hadn't seen enough of the world to know for sure, but Portum seemed like the only place in existence where ghosts and ghouls actually had the space to "enjoy" the life that came next.

The medium listened to what the ghost had to say (when didn't she?) but didn't offer up any sort of opinion of her own. In all honesty, it just wasn't worth it. Instead, she gave herself a moment to reflect on it, to close her eyes and picture the silvery scar she'd noticed, just for the briefest moment, across her neck. It was a curious thing, really, illuminating some clear sadness that the sunny smiles and stupidly named bacon cupcakes couldn't fully hide from a medium. But this wasn't the time to bring it up... if there'd ever be a good time.

"What can I say? I like to live life on the edge," she said sharply, punctuated by a playful eyebrow-raise of sorts.

"The real taste? I guess you'd know all about that, right? Or are you one of those ghosts that's still trying to eat shit? Not that I'm judging,"

paz  let  out  an  amused  sound,  somewhere  between  a  chuckle  and  a  gentle  snerk.  her  eyes  dancing  with  amusement  as  she  busied  herself  with  her  task  at  hand.  " oh,  i  wouldn't  worry  too  much  about  that,  cupcake.  there's  one  or  two  of  your  country  folk  that  have  quickly  dispelled  any  notion  of  those  lucky  charms  that  accent  of  yours  carries. " portum  was  a  melting  pot  that  defied  rhyme  or  reason,  or  at  least  any  rhyme  or  reason  paz  could  comprehend  in  the  decades  she'd  both  lived  and  then  simply  resided  in  the  town.  the  fog  seemed  to  have  a  mind  of  its  own  in  selecting  residents,  though  paz  suspected  it  was  drawn  to  some  deep  seated  need  in  all  of  them.  a  need  to  belong,  a  need  to  escape,  a  need  to  simply  be.  " i  am  not  surprised,  for  that  boy,  i  mean.  when  we  die...  when  we  become... "  she  gestured  vaguely  at  herself,  " whatever  you  want  to  call  this,  you  feel  lost..  untethered..  adrift... "  there  was  a  flicker  of  something  decidedly  un-paz  like  across  her  face  for  an  instant.  a  momentary  lapse  that  allowed  a  silver  scar  to  slice  across  her  neck  that  gone  almost  as  quickly  as  it  appeared.  she  shrugged,  flashing  a  smile  and  resumed  packaging  the  cupcakes  up.  " if  you're  lucky,  you  slowly  piece  yourself  together  again,  learn  to  live  -  or  unlive  -  with  your  new  reality.  but  others...  well,  some  never  find  themselves,  some  find  something  worse,  and  some  find  themselves  drawn  to  things  they  knew  in  life.  films,  music,  people,  places.  anything  that  gives  them  a  sense  of  purpose,  that  grounds  them. "  she  supposed,  talking  to  a  medium,  she  wasn't  really  telling  the  girl  anything  she  didn't  already  know  or  suspect.  yet  it  wasn't  often  paz  allowed  herself  to  really  think  about  the  ghostly  existence  of  both  herself  and  others  within  the  town.  she  had  been  dead  far  longer  than  she  had  been  alive.  now  it  simply  felt  like  her  former  life  had  been  a  passing,  if  wonderful  dream.  " ah,  a  girl  of  culture,  i  see.  aren't  you  just  full  of  surprises. "  she  positively  beamed,  dispelling  the  clouds  with  her  sunshine  smile.  she  added  another  cupcake  -  eloise  would  understand, right ?  -  to  the  box  just  for  that.  “ though  i'd  argue  my  cupcake  is  more  kiki  dee inspired.  the  gimmick  is  just  for  my  own  amusement,  the  elton  for  brand  recognition,  but  the  real  soul,  the  real  taste,  is  in  the  proverbial  and  literal  pudding. ”

[m0rbidity]

"I'll leave if you ask me to, yes," she said measuredly, purposefully choosing to ignore the comment about things getting ugly. Perdita had seen ugly — thousands of times in thousands of ways, she’d seen the worst that humanity had to offer, and the types of beings you could find in Portum were capable of it too. But nothing about Pippa could ever be ugly to her, and she was sure that nothing they could do would ever amount to the sort of fear she was once accustomed to.

Pippa isn’t wrong to know that the gorgon can feel her. More accurately, it’s the fear in the other’s voice… something almost tangible. She knew that all too well too, the fear of oneself. Isn’t it true that fear, or anticipation, can be a thousand times worse than whatever it is you’re actually afraid of?

She never did feel equipped to lighten a mood. Perdita Otero always was such a solemn person, at least in the eyes of Portum.

"Do you need to talk about it? Or just… exist? I figured, at least if I brought fries, you'd have something to enjoy if I’m not much company,"

There was a brief, somewhat reassuring smile that accompanied her words as she stepped towards the door, towards them despite still lacking a verbal permission to enter.

               ‘     ✽     fear  seizes  her  in  a  grip  as  tough  as  iron  ;  it  simmers  inside  like  molten  lava  ,  making  her  tremble  like  a  leaf  .  but  it  works  to  calm  her  .  feeling  fear  this  intensely  puts  her  under  control  ,  for  some  reason  ,  and  suddenly  her  eyes  go  back  to  normal  ,  and  the  energy  around  her  ,  even  though  it  doesn’t  disappear  ,  diminishes  considerably  .  philippa  sighs  ,  processing  perdita’s  words  ,  shaking  her  head  at  her  first  question  .  she  closes  her  eyes  ,  then  ,  inhales  deeply  ,  and  her  mouth  waters  at  the  aroma  that  suddenly  reaches  her  .     "  damn  ,  those  smell  really  good  ,  "     they  finally  mutter  ,  managing  a  smile  that  quickly  disappears  when  their  friend  asks  them  if  she  can  come  in  .  no  is  in  the  tip  of  their  tongue  ,  hanging  there  ,  ready  to  be  uttered  .  she  knows  it  is  the  right  answer  ,  that  it  is  what  she  has  to  do  ,  what  she  has  to  say  ,  but  perri  is  right  there  ,  with  fries  she  got  especially  for  her  and  promising  a  comfort  philippa  desperately  needs  .                "  promise  me  you’ll  run  if  things  get  ugly  ,  "     she  demands  ,  voice  firm  ,  not  a  whisper  anymore  .     "  promise  me  that  if  i  tell  you  to  go  ,  you’ll  go  .  "     afraid  of  herself  ,  her  words  are  uttered  with  conviction  ,  eyes  trained  on  perdita  despite  her  being  unable  to  see  her    —    philippa  knows  she  can  feel  her  .

[m0rbidity]

Ester, as usual, was keeping herself nice and busy. Still relatively new to the actual experience of working, it had never even crossed the reaper's mind that some people could "slack off" or "not do anything" while at work, something that seemed blatantly clear in her work ethic. She was constantly busy, bustling around the second hand clothing store like a bee, quite happily putting a stack of clothes back on the shelves.

In fact, she was so busy that any plans she'd made completely slipped to the back of her mind. There was something a little unexpected about the sound of Sam's voice, and the smell of one particularly delightful herbal tea that she'd grown to favour.

"Sam! Hi! Honestly, it's going wonderfully. We made plans, didn't we? I think I remember..."

STATUS : closed LOCATION : second chances, towards the end of ester's shift FEATURING : samuel vu & ester madani @m0rbidity

SAM'S LEGS BROUGHT HIM FROM THE MIDNIGHT STEEP TOWARDS SECOND CHANCES ON AUTOPILOT, to-go cups secured in his gentle grasp. he and ester planned to meet after work and catch up at the portum art gallery, one of the pair’s favorite pastimes. the shifter entered the thrift store with a smile on his face, nodding at the employee at the entrance. most of the staff knew sam fairly well, which is how he and ester first met and grew to become friends. sam had seen a new exhibit being shown at the gallery and invited ester to accompany him to the opening ceremony but he, of course, couldn’t arrive empty handed. and so there he was, a cup of white tea in one hand and ester’s favorite blend in the other, when he spotted a familiar head of hair. “hey, es~ how's your shift coming along?"

[m0rbidity]

Well, she did sort of need money. Íde had no trouble wrangling a job making tea within her first days in Portum, but that wasn't something she could use to pay the rent overnight, and hey, the banjo wasn't a bad busking instrument really.

Some part of her chuckled when the question was asked — not because it was a stupid question, necessarily, but because it felt silly to give an answer. Or perhaps it was because it all just... drew attention to the inherent accessibility of busking in public. Even when Íde opened her lips to speak, she didn't stop plucking away at her banjo.

"This old thing? Honestly, I couldn't give a shite. Just something mam taught me. Don't tell me you're planning on doing some sort of spotify search once you're halfway down the street,"

ever so curious was a person that just can't seem to stray away from trouble , whether it be their demon side attracted to all sorts of unruly energies or just because they were plain bored . either way , they followed the sound of the banjo playing , thinking perhaps it was just another person busking for money , wanting to see if they could help out in some way — “ what's that song you're playing ? ” — they ask genuinely , intrigued by the melody they heard .

[m0rbidity]

"Oh my god, that sounds sick! I think I've seen that one too,"

Meena Patel was notoriously easy to please. Especially when it came to roller-skating, she loved it all, and the beauty of skating with Lulu was that they were honestly a match made in heaven: an 80s one hit wonder and someone who easily could've been mistaken for one of her peers. She respected anyone who was as bold and as bright as her, and frankly, Meena felt like the big sister of anyone who'd grown up in Portum.

That was always funny, really. She could remember those days when Lulu was still learning, remember showing the mermaid the extent of her roller-skate collection while running through some of the basics. Meena had always been known as one of Portum's avid street skaters, but now she had competition, or company (depending on how you looked at it). Trying tricks together certainly suggested the latter, and she was more than happy with that arrangement.

"Ha. You bet they'll hate to see us coming. If shit around here keeps going — well, the way it's going — we might have to start working on battle moves. I wanna work out how to set them on fire and kick people in the face,"

Laughing a little, and still apparently unable to take things seriously, she attempted to demonstrate a kick, which apparently required a lot more balance than decades of experience could provide.

lulu  couldn't  lie  :  she  spent  the  morning  researching  different  tricks  to  pitch  to  meena  .  like  there  was  an  element  of  youth  ,  the  kind  that  came  along  with  wanting  to  impress  someone  else  .  the  tips  of  her  yellow  nails  clacked  against  the  back  of  her  phone  case  as  she  shoved  it  into  her  trousers'  pocket  .  dressed  to  the  nines  ,  or  maybe  the  tens  ,  in  bright  orange  skating  garb  right  out  of  the  eighties  barbie  catalogue  ,  down  to  the  headband  and  the  straightened  waves  .  no  one  would  hit  them  with  a  car  for  sure  .  “  okay  ,  we  combo  it  .  what  if  we  ,  like  ,  did  that  thing  where  we  hook  at  the  ankles  and  do  a  lil'  spin  ?  i  saw  that  on  tiktok  and  i  am  down  to  practise  it  because  i've  been  working  on  my  balance  stat  .  ” she  jutted  her  leg  out  in  demonstration  of  the  pose  .  skate  circles  around  reminded  her  of  the  days  when  meena  actually  did  that  ,  part  of  why  lulu  started  practising  even  more  for  hours  .  a  lost  art  ,  really  .  she  warmed  up  the  backs  of  her  calfs  by  half  -  piston  squatting  and  stretching  into  an  arc  down  the  road  .  the  wheels  skimmed  harsh  against  the  asphalt  .  “  pretty  good  footing  here  ,  ” announced  she  ,  hands  on  hips  .  “  no  better  time  like  the  present  .  they  will  hate  to  see  us  coming  .  ” but  at  least  it  wouldn't  be  loud  ,  like  the  werewolf  who  was  blasting  their  stereo  from  their  junker  car  the  other  morning  .

[m0rbidity]

"Mmm," she hummed slightly, perfectly content with the current arrangement. The warmth of the fire and the energy of the night around them had certainly lightened her mood from the tentative gloom of May. Like the air had been injected with a little hope again, a little more normalcy.

It hadn't been easy. Juniper's tears had a sort of sting to them, an ache felt in Perdita every time she wiped one away. An Otero sister knew her pain all too well, that fear of hurting anybody ever again, and Perdita was convinced that Juniper was nothing like her, that incredible younger sister who didn't seem to share in her residual violence or anger. That was, of course, why it'd taken so long for Perdita to find Portum, too ashamed and withdrawn to find her sisters through the fog until the time was right.

That was the truth of it, really. Finally, the sisters were safe together, each of them cemented into Portum's community and connected to each other.

"I'm sorry it took so long,"

          juniper  was  feeling  blissed  silence  for  the  first  time  in  weeks.  after  the  weeks  buried  in  guilt  over  what  happened  juniper  had  been  pretty  much  hidden  away  (  either  in  her  bedroom  or  behind  thick  sunglasses  where  she  couldn't  meet  anyone's  eyes  )  to  process  what  had  happened.  perri  had  been  her  rock  ,  holding  her  when  she  cried  and  telling  her  what  happened  wasn't  her  fault.  at  the  end  she  almost  believed  her. now  ,  however  ,  juniper  was  curled  up  in  front  of  the  fire  next  to  perdita  ,  sunglasses  still  on  even  though  it  was  getting  dark.  everyone  said  it  was  over  ,  but  juniper  still  didn't  feel  ready  to  meet  the  world.  "it  gave  me  you  back  ,"  she  replied  ,  leaning  into  the  comfort  her  sister  brought.  "that's  the  greatest  gift  ,  i  think."

[m0rbidity]

"And is that how you see yourself? As either one of those strong, arse-kicking dogs, or... really smart? Because um... I'm not sure that's where your charms lie, Danny boy,"

She giggled slightly and threw her head back on the cushion of her sofa. It was nice, really, to have a kid like Danny that she could call a friend, but also like... a nephew of something, even if on one level they were sort of peers. Sure, Danny probably saw her as old and a funny little novelty of a time gone by, but Meena hadn't really grown up enough for herself to really feel it, even if the vampire was full of quirks that served as souvenirs from her true generation.

"I guess it doesn't matter because you're not a dog. Unless the kid who bit you was... y'know, a wolf,"

"how d'ya not know what a dobermann is how—" old are you? even as drunk as he is, danny knew not to actually finish his sentence. "ratty?!" he burst out laughing, head thrown back into the backrest of the couch. "are you fucking kidding me? there's no way I'm one of those dogs! I'm strong, and I bite hard, and I kick ass!"

oh, but it was always funny to watch meena work her phone. so old. his eyebrows raised, nodding as she was practically squinting at the screen of her phone. after a while he rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated groan. "ugh, fine, whatever. what about a border collie? they're cute, but they're also really smart!" he knew he was setting himself up for failure there, but hey... hope died last.

[m0rbidity]

Ah yes, there were obvious reasons why many people seemed taken aback, or just surprised, by her continued existence. It was all too obvious, really: blind a gorgon and render them defenceless (or, at the very least, you've fixed a rather major problem). But in that, there's an assumed... fate. Or was it a betrayal of species? Something people didn't realise was perfectly possible to live past.

But, of course, Perdita Otero had to prove her strength even more in the aftermath. Fists flew instead of stony glares ever since she lacked the ability to kill instantly at a considerable distance. It was surprising how much she liked the tactility of it all, the freedom all of it had given her hands, and she'd carried the habitual exercise well past necessity, something she was a little thankful for given the town's current state.

"Long evening sessions? Helping those who need it? I suppose it's you I've been hearing,"

It wasn't really uncommon to imagine that the gym was host to a few little private groups, and she'd never been interested enough to ask about such a thing. She trained alone, and it had always sounded a little too... rowdy for her taste.

When he explained his streams of income, she nodded ever so slightly in acknowledgement, because that did make sense. The nice thing about Portum was that people had a lot less in the way of pressures, very different to the increasing cruelty of the world beyond its walls. Work was less strenuous than what Perdita had seen across the rest of the planet, and she could imagine what sort of passions had led him here, training others at the gym.

Particularly now.

"Yes. I believe you work with my sister,"

She smiled slightly, still her perfectly neutral self. Whether or not she'd heard good or bad things was besides the point.

fletcher  had  considered,  on  more  than  one  occasion,  barging  his  way  into  that  council  room  and  knocking  some  sense  into  the  people  that  were  meant  to  be  protecting  portum.  he  had  seen  it  time  and  time  again  — leaders  elected  on  the  basis  of  their  sparkling  threads  of  lies.  the  dragon  was  abrasive,  was  fiery,  and  he  could  be  mean-spirited  at  times  …  but  at  least  he  was  honest.  “well,  i  can’t  fault  the  dedication,”  he  smiled,  tilting  his  head  once  he  noticed  that  perdita  didn’t  turn,  didn’t  make  an  effort  to  make  eye  contact.  fletcher  saw  the  slight  milky  sheen  of  her  pupils.  he  had  seen  everything  out  in  the  dark  streets  of  the  states,  but  he  had  never  seen  a  blind  gorgon.  “even  i  want  to  escape  after  a  long  evening  session.” had  she  heard  them ?  had  she  felt  the  shiver  of  the  ground  beneath  her  feet  when  he  threw  a  punch  in  the  darkness ?  had  she  heard  the  shouts,  the  cheers,  the  crunch  of  bone  against  bone ?  fletcher  knew  of  incredible  fighters,  of  monks  in  faraway  temples  that  intentionally  blindfolded  themselves  during  combat.  it  made  their  senses  sharper,  it  made  their  footsteps  like  those  of  an  alley  cat.  for  the  first  time  since  he  had  arrived  in  portum,  fletcher  felt  confident  in  the  fact  that  there  was  somebody  he  didn’t  need  to  go  out  of  his  way  to  protect. the  only  other  dragons  he  knew  were  his  sister  and  nila.  since  portum  had  truly  started  slipping,  since  his  fire  had  abandoned  him  and  left  him  useless,  he  hadn’t  spoken  to  either  of  them.  did  they  feel  as  he  did,  as  though  his  manhood  has  been  stripped  away  in  a  single  night ?  or  did  they  still  close  their  fists  and  fight  despite  the  flame  abandoning  them  like  an  unreliable  parent.  “  i  …  ”  it  was  complicated.  fletcher  had  been  born  a  fighter  and  he  had  been  blessed  with  fire  the  moment  he  was  born  —  it  seemed  a  perfect  fit  to  wedge  himself  into  a  career  at  station  thirteen,  even  if  his  passion  was  in  portum’s  sweaty  underbelly. “i  do  a  lot  of  things.  a  lot  of  streams  of  income,”  fletcher  nodded,  before  quickly  cursing  himself  under  his  breath.  she  couldn’t  see  the  gesture,  of  course.  “primarily  i  work  at  the  firestation,  but  i  come  along  here  a  few  nights  a  week  …  offer  help  to  those  that  need  it.”  it  wasn’t  dishonesty  —  he  heard  his  father’s  voice  in  his  head  whenever  he  wanted  to  lie  —  but  it  was  a  simple  bend  of  the  truth.  he  was  helping  in  the  only  way  he  knew  how. his  brows  knitted  in  the  middle.  “you’ve  heard  of  me ? ”  fletcher  asked,  “my  reputation  must  be  spreading.  good  things,  i  hope ? ”  they  certainly  wouldn’t  have  been  if  she  had  spoken  to  meena.

[m0rbidity]

"Maybe I just had a breakout. Or, uhh... bad hair day. Week? Trust me, my hair looks like fucking shit. You don't wanna see all that,"

It's so easy to joke through a wall, with Kai of all people, and once she's able to convince herself that everything's fine. To be honest, Meena's missed a lot of the latest madness in town because of her own type of isolation, but she had to imagine that all the vampires were in the same sort of way, and that Kai might be in a similar sort of way. But whatever. She's fine as she is.

It wasn't that Meena hated herself or anything. She wasn't one of those emo vampires who'd spent decades locked into one shitty little gothic mansion, or whatever. But there was just a sort of... expectation around her. She never wanted to drink from people without consent, not after the way she'd been turned.

"What's new with you, anyway? If I open the door are you gonna be covered in scales or something?"

her voice, despite the attitude and profanities that accompany it, is a relief to the merman. at least he knew she hadn't let herself starve in there. his mind can't help but drift to how awful cal had been looking; it'd be even more difficult to see meena in a similar state. ❝ you know what i mean, ❞ a breath of a laugh leaves him. maybe technically, she wasn't, but meena was pretty damn alive to kai. too lively, at times. and it was weird to be without that for a few days. he knew he cared about meena, but just how much was starting settle in. if kai hadn't told that very same lie for the past ten years, he probably would have believed it. and something else was very obviously proving that to not be true. ❝ if you were fine, you wouldn't have locked yourself in there. ❞ sometimes he wants to tell her, tell someone, so there's just a single person who understands the part of him that has always been so afraid. and meena is the closest thing he has to a family. ❝ you'll have to come out eventually so i guess i'll get comfortable out here. and i have to fix your lock. ❞

[m0rbidity]

"Is it?" she asked, a softness in her voice rather than anything harsh or accusatory. "How so?"

The truth was, Perdita didn't know if it was a beautiful night. She could feel it, of course — the warm heat of the bonfire before them and that same deathly chill of the air that Noa could sense. And of course, she wasn't close-minded enough to think that true beauty could only lie in the eye of a beholder (lord knows that as an artist, Perdita had never mourned her own capacity to enjoy beautiful things). But a beautiful night...

Well, she had always loved the stars, and that was usually what the gorgon imagined when people spoke about how beautiful any given night was. She was always so curious about how different they'd look — what Portum's stars were like compared to those of her stars, of the ones visible from the mountain she still called home.

"I think that's true. Sometimes... everyone needs a quiet moment, especially right now. I'm not one for chaos,"

@m0rbidity

LOCATION: the bonfire. FOR: perdita ortero.

EVEN IN SPRING, WHEN everything was supposed to be returning to life, noa still noticed a deathly chill in the air. perhaps, she wondered, it was just another reminder that this was her afterlife. that everyone else around her had a vessel to live within. however, deep down, she was confident it was something else. that while the world kept spinning, she would forever remain the same. wandering through this evolving world, a relic of a lifetime ago. it's a thought she's reminded of as she's separated from anyone even remotely familiar -- some of whom will age. who will grow, and will eventually experience a day where they will leave this world. will they stay here, like she will? or will their business be unfinished? somehow, for her at the very least, existentialism doesn't seem to appear in times of normalcy.

" it's a beautiful night, isn't it? " noa eventually speaks. she's seen the individual next to her before -- considering her frequency to be surrounded by art. in passing, but enough to feel comfortable to say something. " i know it feels like there's a lot to worry about... but we all deserve even a second of comfort amidst the fear. "

[m0rbidity]

Even though they hadn't been friends for long, Ester saw the sadness in Ender all too clearly. It must be impossibly hard for her, to feel trapped within a state of death, unable to move on or do many of the things that others in town could. Ester would be the first to admit that she didn't understand ghosts, or the fear of moving on to something new, but theirs had been a friendship that forced her to reconsider. Had Ender moved on, they never would've met, and her life would be a little more lacking.

"You're still here. I think that counts for something,"

She sighed into a smile, then took a moment to judge the size of the bracelet she's still making. Still a little small, but they're stretchy, and she can't imagine Juniper has a particularly large wrist.

"You can dance, and enjoy the music, or... the fire itself, and all the wonderful company that Portum provides. Perhaps I'll make something for you next..."

ender  tilted  her  head  at  ester’s  doubt.  she  had  expected  more  from  her  friend  and,  for  a  moment,  she  wondered  whether  she  should  have  trusted  the  other  as  much  as  she  did  —  was  ester  in  on  it ?  did  she  have  a  family  member,  a  friend,  a  lover  embedded  in  the  council  that  kept  her  safe ?  quickly,  though,  she  checked  herself  ;  they  were  the  ramblings  of  a  mad  woman,  and  she  couldn’t  let  paranoia  get  the  better  of  her. although  it  would  have  been  so  easy  to  let  herself  fall.  to  let  herself  crumble  under  the  pressure  of  secrets.  she  usually  loved  to  gossip,  but  only  when  the  spotlight  was  pointed  firmly  away  from  her. “the  good  things  in  death,  you  mean,”  mumbled  the  ghost  as  she  threaded  another  bead  firmly  onto  the  string.  it  was  coming  together,  a  mix  of  pinks  and  purples  and  sparkles  that  she  would  gift  to  aeri  when  it  was  finished.  “there’s  not  much  for  me  to  do.  i  can’t  enjoy  any  of  the  food  and,  who  knows,  maybe  my  hands  will  decide  to  disappear  so  i  drop  the  entire  bracelet halfway through.”

[m0rbidity]

She'd never needed to go to the record store. Íde still lived in her car, and only had like... six or seven CDs that she was perfectly happy with. Records were cool, though, and she might've invested in them if her life had been more stable in the past. It wasn't the records that had her lurking around there.

"Cheers, I've been feckin' parched for the best part of... all day,"

Íde wasted no time at all taking her drink from Laon, though something about being around her made her conscious of her behaviour in a way that typically only mattered when she wanted something out of someone. In this case, Íde didn't think she wanted anything from the banshee, at least not materially.

In all honesty, Íde didn't know how to take the compliment, so she didn't, and simply offered up a coy smile between hearty sips of her drink. It was probably worth changing the subject as quickly as possible.

"Yeah. Honestly, I was looking for you. Pretty easy if you ask me, because you look great, by the way. And I figured... you're a DJ, music is your life, why wouldn't you be in the crowd? Safe bet to make,"

laon doesn't really get to meet people much most of her life, or at least, get anybody that close to her, with how she had programmed herself to just leave when she doesn't feel like she should be there. that was something she had been trying to undo ever since she came back to portum, learning a little bit to let people it, and so far, she's had a couple of memorable interactions, with íde, the banter at the record shop a couple of times, whilst browsing for a new record to be part of her mix.

the bonfire was something she had looked forward to, especially the music performances it had in store. she loves live music, and hasn't been able to watch such in a while. as she was in the crowd, she spots a familiar face, which immediately makes her smile, it felt like a little fun fact she'd not known before of íde, and it was lovely to watch her perform, perhaps, only focusing on her during the performance.

the banshee went off to get drinks for herself and the oracle once her performance was done, and was just able to take them when she heard the musician speak. "well...something told me that i should be here...not miss the live performances, you know?" she says as she hands the cup over to íde. "and i'm glad i didn't." she gives her a grin before taking a sip of her drink. "you did so so good, íde. i...couldn't stop watching."

[m0rbidity]

"How is that weird? Pretty sure there's bands that are just drum and bass, and you're already covered with those drumsticks,"

Whether or not she was playing devil's advocate or actually thought like the damn devil at the worst times... well, that was neither here nor there. But either way, Íde found a little bit of relief in her own relentless cheek.

"We'll have to get absolutely feckin' plastered after this. Especially if we're shite,"

Honestly, she'd kill for a pint right now, preferably the best stuff she could stomach, savoured in a way that could calm her nerves somehow. But apparently that shit was bad for your voice right before a gig, and anyway, she had people in the crowd she wanted to impress. Or, at the very least, people she actually would see again. Calahan, Laon, um... Sam and Lucien. Although if they were good, maybe she'd get away with never making a brew again.

The green pallor in her face faded just a little at that thought, the first to fit a quota of wild optimism instead of useless stress.

"I'm with you alright. Probably a bit late to back out now anyway, unless we decide to be real divas about it,"

She rolled her eyes and held one palm out for the other two, one of those stupid team huddle things she'd always seen in movies but never actually tried.

@silkeared / @blednoir

@m0rbidity & @silkeared

"dae  us  all  a  favour,  an'  just  calm  the fuck doon fer once in yer life,  eh?"  nieve  muttered,  though  there  was  no  bite  to  her  words.  it wasn't íde she was annoyed at, not really, not in a way that really mattered. not tonight anyway. her  hazel  eyes  were firmly  locked  on  the  empty  space  of  the  stage  they'll  soon  be  occupying.  it  was  either  the  promised  land  or  a  battlefield  to  be  conquered,  she  hadn't  quite  worked  out  which  yet.  her  leg  jittered  out  a  staccato  rhythm  on  the  floorboards,  her  booted  heel  thudding  almost  as  loudly  as  her  heartbeat  was  in  her  ears.  her  mouth  felt  drier  than  a  nun's  twat.  she  couldn't  remember  the  last  time  she'd  been  this  nervous.  her,  nervous. that was a first to be sure. and not one she savoured.  “half  this  mob'll  be  hammered,  yer  ghostly  mam  included,  so  ah  doubt  they'll  e'en remember  gettin'  home  tonight,  let  alone  us  fuckin'  up.”  christ  on  a  cracker,  how  she  envied  them  that.  if  not  for  the  fact  she  was  mortally afraid  of  forgetting  the  setlist, she  would've  killed  for  a  drink.  hell,  several  with  chasers  sounded  pretty  good  right  about  now.  she  glanced  at  mei,  the  closest  thing  she  had  to  a  rock  in  portum,  hoping  at  least  one  of  them  was  holding  it  together.  "but  we  won't.  fuck  up,  that  is.  'cause  we  got  this, eh ? we fuckin' got this."

[m0rbidity]

"Mate, I don't eat beef. Never did anyway, and y'know... that cow shit fuckin' pales in comparison to human blood, or whatever,"

There was something rather indignant about Meena in that moment, like it honestly offended her that Wally didn't know something incredibly personal about her.

"And... duh. No offence, Walls, but you're a man. Of course you're gonna look like shit next to me," she said. Whether it was the drink or just... her cheerful mood that made her brutally honest, it was hard to judge, but Meena sincerely meant it, despite the joking tone. She'd like to see Wally try to look this good, or attempt full glam or something. It was true, though, that the sweat and grill smell wasn't really doing him any favours.

"Who's on the bar? I dunno. Not me 'cos I just got off it,"

wally's composure softened immediately at the realization that it was meena, and the grumpy energy eventually deflated into one that was more akin to the wally that envy knew. "i don't know about that, tinkerbell," he jokingly responded after meena denied taking from the grill, checking for any traces of glitter that might've accidentally peppered the patties as a result of him slapping meena's hand. "mama, i'm not going out with you while you look like that. i'd look like shit standing beside you!" he said gesturing to all the glam meena had on right now compared to just how sweaty he was after facing a grill for the better part of the day.  "i'm about to be done in a bit though. someone's taking over for me i think. who's on the bar right now?" wally wasn't picky about his drinks, per se, it's a means of managing his expectations. if it's anyone from spell & bourbon then he's ready to have a good time, but if it was anyone from the old haunt, he wasn't sure. the last time he drank there wasn't his best experience.

[m0rbidity]

"I wonder if it'd be worse if they cancelled it..." the reaper said with a wistful sort of smile, a faraway look in her eyes while waiting for Theo to continue walking alongside her.

"Perhaps I'm out of line, but... something so regular, and presumably so enjoyable and celebratory... I think for it to be cancelled is a sign of weakness. Or, at the very least, a sign of defeat. To look forward to something for an entire year, and then..."

Still carrying her dismantled bench, Ester shrugged her shoulders slightly. Of course it was a distraction, but she thought that people would generally prefer to be distracted by routine than to be awoken by an absence of such a thing. Not that she'd known about the bonfire until after being quoted in the newspapers, but Ester had to imagine that the loss of something celebrating the town must feel like certain defeat, as if it was truly giving in to the gloomy nature of things.

"I think I'm quite grateful. This is the first time I've ever gotten to celebrate Portum, and everyone here was so welcoming,"

          (    ↻    )    with  such  a  tight-knit  community  ,  theo  wonders  how  the  town  would  react  if  the  council  were  to  cancel  this  year’s  bonfire  .  in  the  five  years  they’ve  lived  here  ,  never  once  has  it  been  cancelled  .  but  they’ve  also  never  had  a  reason  to  cancel  .  they  don’t  miss  the  grumblings  about  how  this  year’s  shouldn’t  even  be  happening  given  everything  .  and  the  whole  spiel  about  how  it’s  a  distraction  .  doesn’t  everyone  know  that  it’s  a  distraction  at  this  point  ?

“  oh  yeah  .  happens  every  year  like  clockwork  .  celebratin’  the  founding  of  the  town  ,  community  building  ––  all  that  jazz  .  don’t  think  i’ve  ever  seen  them  cancel  it  for  anything  .  it’s  definitely  taken  place  rain  or  shine  .  not  that  they’d  ever  had  to  worry  about  the  weather  .  ”

she  tucks  a  stray  lock  of  hair  behind  her  ear  as  she  stands  back  up  .  “  it’s  definitely  somethin’  ,  ”  the  redheaded  witch  comments  .  “  i  heard  the  council’s  tryin’  to  pull  out  all  the  stops  .  wouldn’t  blame  folks  if  they  decided  to  sit  this  one  out  .  ”