marylamode

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Zazie Beetz photographed by Tom Newton

[marylamode]

mary & jasmine || scssyspiced​

“stranger danger.” jasmine quipped in response, knowing exactly what the other woman was referring. and although she was born nowhere near the time of the panic induced mania, jasmine has learned about its faulty rhetoric and consequences that have followed. “granted, we should all be wary of overfriendly strangers, studies show that children are often abused by the people they know rather than those they do not. but we’re not talking about children instead two adult women. so perhaps, there is some validity behind it. I don’t know. it’s all confusing to me.” she sighed, rolling her shoulders as she tried to work the stress out between them. jasmine could use a full body massage. maybe pax could give her one once they returned home.

“it’s just the southern hospitality in me. my grandma used to say it takes a village and well, I’d like to think that if I were in their shoes, rosie and dottie would do the same for me.” smiled the long haired musician, happily snacking away on a sour apple flavored gummy. “help yourself, I don’t mind. knowing my husband, he’s probably packed extra baggies in the car.” at the mention of pax, jasmine waves to the long limbed male, assuring her spouse that she and baby are fine. “anyway, I’m jasmine, I’d say it’s nice nice meet you but given the circumstance, I don’t think that’d be correct.”

— “Stranger danger! That’s what it was!” she confirmed. Mary nodded along without being fully conscious of it, a reflexive habit derived from her people-pleasing nature. But for all her shyness, the disappearance of those two girls was stirring up a voice she didn’t know she had. Was she guilt-ridden for never having recovered her own mother’s body or was it, perhaps, simply in her nature as an engineer to problem solve? Her mother used to scold her for scheming. Beatrix had berated her daughter for being the quiet observer -- said that the watery sheen her eyes took on whenever a calculation worked in her favor made her resemble her father. Mary spent her life avoiding traits that mirrored the man who’d abandoned them. She made herself quiet, she slouched to appear smaller, and she cast her eyes downward to hide the determination held within them.

“Are you not from Salem either?” she asked, tentatively. “I’m Mary -- it’s only when I get into trouble that my siblings call me Mary Suzette.”  Slouched so that her diminutive frame was swallowed up by her baggy layers, she helped herself to exactly one candy. “I’ve heard from the locals that disappearances are common here -- or, or something like that,” she said. Mary gave a bird-like nibble to her lone gummy worm to make it last longer. “And they blame witches or vampires or mermaids,” she said. “Do you know if the surviving sisters have more grounded theories?” 

[marylamode]

ZAZIE BEETZ on Ask Me Anything w/ ELLE.

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mary, todd, & annabelle || solitaryspirits​

Todd’s got some hamburger helper that he’s whipping up– the milk is all stirred in, and he’s tearing off a piece of the paper cheese packaging to dump into that tasty skillet he’s making for himself and his sisters. it’s a weird thing– two other sisters disappearing out of nowhere– even weirder that it’s brought the triplets together. the mention of mom, however, throws him off more than it should. “Uh…”  the mess in the kitchen is something he tries to focus on. the garlic bread on the sheet pan isn’t ready to go in the oven just yet. the hamburger helper will have to sit for awhile– and now of all times, Todd wishes he knew of a vegetable to go with dinner to keep him in that kitchen nook and hidden away from those questions. “What do you mean–”  his counter doesn’t stop him from taking a couple of bowls from out of cabinets. the first one needs a bit of dusting– which is what he’s working on now– the bowl is being wiped down with his own shirt. eyebrows pinch together as he sets the glass back down on the counter. 

“I think it’d be really sad if Dollie doesn’t show up– she’s a good friend, and” he frowns. “I miss her.” he keeps his answers short, “And Ren… he’s stressed enough as it is with work, and I believe he’s ready for a promotion, but he needs his boss back.” he continues to deflect the question. “If they never find those girls, I think there are matters worse than worrying about burying them…” he tries cautiously– “You don’t think it’s related, do you?” he knows it’s not related, or, at least, he knows that Dollie and Josie weren’t mixed up in anything their mother was, “I mean, come on, Mary, Mom was mixed up in a lot of stuff…”

With Todd making dinner and Mary away at her computer, Annabelle has both feet curled in her chair. On the end table next to her, she keeps her fingers spread out as far as they’ll go to paint her nails. She’d grown tired of the green paint chipping away, and has now moved onto a fresh coat of strawberry red. Her nails take more precedence over the missing sisters. Not because Annabelle is heartless - but what is there that she can do? She knows little about either girl, and if the relentless search parties hadn’t found them yet, Annabelle doubts she could do much to offer any more assistance. “I mean, yeah, it’s sad,” She agrees. “But it’s not the same thing that happened to Mom, is it? We know what happened to her. Sort of,”

They lift their hand from the end table to blow on the first coat of polish. “Boat accident, right? It’s not like she just disappeared into thin air,” And the authorities could only spend so much time coaming the bottom of the water for their mother’s body. “At least we know. Not knowing…well, you’re just kinda stuck pretending that they might come back some day, right?” A thought Annabelle had entertained briefly but ultimately dismissed in the years since their mother’s apparent death. “So you think they’re already dead?” They ask. “Maybe we’ve got a serial killer on the lose here. Dammit, Todd, I knew I shouldn’t have let you convince me to come all the way out here. I don’t want to be next on the murdered list.”

— “You’re right,” she said, reluctantly. Even the slightest pushback from her siblings triggered her need to take the path of least resistance. Beatrix’s conditional affection was a shear, which she used to prune her daughter’s budding self-esteem. It was a necessary evil, supposedly, to protect her from turning out like her father. He’d been the villain of every tale her mother ever told and unlike her curious brother, she’d never questioned his characterization. Todd’s insistence on knowing this man himself, no matter what false leads his mother dangled for him to chase, that they’d found him in Salem. Mary now felt certain that what her mother had truly desired was a doormat, never a daughter. She clung onto the hope that Beatrix Wilson had survived the accident solely from her burning desire to tell that to her mother’s face.

“But do we really know?” she asked, suddenly. The desire for truth, so much like her father, had always been seen as a threat to her mother. “I have a hard time believing that out of everything that could’ve conceivably killed mom, that she was taken out by a boat,” she said. “She could...she could still be...” 

Mary’s protest snuffed out as quickly as it began. The scent of hamburger on the stove made her stomach growl, and she became acutely aware of her body’s positioning right down to her toes. She looked to Annabelle for help, but it was hard to know whether her siblings would help her up or let her drown. “Don’t you remember how she used to threaten us by saying we were weighing her down?” she murmured.  It was the first time she’d gone against the grain and expressed a belief in her mother’s survival. Her voice wavered, double-guessing the words she had no way to retract once they were out there. “What if she survived and just didn’t want to come back for us?”

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mary & ellie || recordturner​:

𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: Sleepy Cat Books cap 0/3 ! @salemstart​

Each day passed quicker than the last, which only meant that soon enough there’d be a new baby in the family that Ellie was hoping he’d be entrusted with as an on-call babysitter. However the articles online were all fear-mongering and clearly catering to women, the threads filled with horror stories told by traumatized au pairs veering him even further from the Internet as a reliable source on parenting. He decided to tackle it the old-fashioned way —— by reading real, handheld books.

His strawberry-tinted brows were closing in on each other as he flipped through a borrowed and extremely tattered copy of What To Expect When You’re Expecting. You know, so he could get a sense of empathy for his older sister before diving headfirst into the month-by-month manuals of child rearing. “… Hey, it says here a girl’s brain-cell volume actually decreases during pregnancy. That’s insane. And that you’re more forgetful if you’re having a girl. You think we’re having a lil bro, then? Cuz Jess never forgets a recipe. This is all wack, though, so I think anything goes.” he rattled on, not clarifying that he was doing this research for his sister’s sake.

— “If you don’t mind me saying so, you’re really going the extra mile,” she said. “Your sister is lucky to have someone like you.” Mary withdrew into herself, her skinny arms hugging a hardcover book tight against her chest. She was the most soft-spoken of the triplets, a shy soul whose nervous timbre stayed at a whisper. “Are you hoping for a baby brother?” she asked.

Reading for pleasure hadn’t been a hobby she ever allowed herself to indulge in. Growing up, she’d read whatever looked most prestigious on the essay portion of an exam. Now an adult with free time, disposable income, and a calendar clear of stepping stones to the next academic achievement, she didn’t quite know what to do with herself. To say she felt lost among the shelves of Scaredy Cat Books -- and clearly, she looked lost -- would be an understatement. 

“If my dad and your sister really commit to being a family,” she said, after a moment’s thought. “I suppose that technically you’re already an uncle. There’s no chance that book gives advice on how to navigate that, does it?”

[marylamode]

mary & andrea || andreaxweber​

Location: Outside Gargoyle Garden Apartments

Cap: 0/4

@salemstart​

Andrea had been taking in the news of everything that had been going on in Salem. It was kind of a shock how something like it could happen. Her hands were buried in her pockets as she stood outside of her apartment building, the weather had been getting a little bit warmer, but she still wore a jacket and a hat as she just stood people watching, in a world of her own as she did. They began to wonder who would do such a thing and if they were going to strike again or if it was just that time. Sighing softly, they began to put it into the back of their mind for the moment, even though it would still be there, they knew they couldn’t do anything at that moment. Looking down at her watch, she noticed the time, almost time to grab something to eat. She looked back up seeing somebody looking at her, turning back to realise she was in the way of the main door. “I’m sorry I didn’t know I was standing so close to the door.”

— Mary had made a discovery, one only made worse by the shroud of conspiracy draped over town. She’d exited her shared apartment calmly as possible and now sat outside, slumped at the curb with her back to some shrubbery. Their home was bugged. Her hands trembled as she sought to call her siblings, but both attempts rerouted her to voice mail. How could they do this to her? With the disappearance of the Alimjan girls, now wasn’t the time to ghost a loved one. It took a moment for her to realize someone was talking to her, and then she looked up at Andrea. “Oh, don’t mind me,” she said. “You get a better signal out here, for some reason. I’m, um, just trying to get ahold of someone. With everything going on, I -- at least, me personally -- think it’s a nerve-wracking time to be sent straight to voicemail.”

[marylamode]

mary & maia || blacksheepfms​​

A quick smile crossed Maia’s face as she saw the other, instantly recognizing the other from her month of being in town and watching her father.  Maia wasn’t yet ready to confirm if she had siblings here, was too afraid that they wouldn’t necessarily want anything to do with her if they were indeed related, so she tried to ignore that small beacon of hope that was constantly there when she saw familiar faces.  “Thank you, really.  Honestly I should probably start investing in some of these myself, clearly seem a bit more reliable.”  Maia laughed and took the bag in question.  “And I see they have some interesting designs.”

Maia quickly threw in her other groceries, hoping to not make the same mistake twice.  When she looked up she could tell the other was a bit frazzled.  “Hey are you okay?  I can totally return this back to you once I get everything unpacked at my place.”  She was worried that the hospitality was quickly coming with strings attached, silently cursing herself for not expecting it.

— “It only takes a few dozen failures for the solution to kick in,” she said. “If I’m not mistaken, I think I might’ve been on my tenth ripped bag before I seriously considered an alternative.” Mary glanced down at her shoes, a nervous habit she’d had since childhood. Holding a stranger’s gaze left her feeling too vulnerable for some reason, as if they could see right through her and her family’s lies. The fear of being the loose thread that unravels her mother’s empire hadn’t gone away as she’d grown up.

“Oh, you don’t have to bother! Like I said, there’s dozens of these hanging in the checkout line. They’re only ninety-nine cents or something like that,” she rambled. A shy hand rubbed the back of her neck as she willed herself the strength to ask the stranger if they’d spotted a wallet anywhere in the parking lot. Mary bit her lip. “Me? I’m fine, I just...well, I could’ve sworn I went into the store with my pursed zipped up,” she said. “I must’ve made a mistake -- the front pocket was open when I was in checkout and I couldn’t find my wallet anywhere. I’m hoping it’s just sitting in my car.” 

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Mary, Annabelle, and Todd; Gargoyle Apartments || @solitaryspirits​ & @sin-tentional​

— “It makes me think of what happened to mom,” she admitted. Mary shut her laptop. It was coated in colorful stickers, many of them logos or references to her favorite pop culture mediums. Staring at the familiar, albeit silly, collection eased her stress. She’d spent the last few hours setting up bots on social media to boost awareness of the disappearing sisters’ case. Not that they needed much boosting. Their famous relative -- who’d graced a certain daytime soap opera that Mary had been glued to since its pilot aired -- had enough star power that news on the missing girls weren’t swallowed up by other headlines.

Ruminating on what’d happened to the girls was eating up the majority of her free time. Mary hunched over on the couch, drawing her knees to her chest and hugging them close. Even though they’d been given the key to their father’s apartment and told to make themselves feel at home, it felt unsettling to be somewhere so unfamiliar while such fear and uncertainty blanketed the town. “Doesn’t it bother you guys, too? If they never find those girls, there’ll never be anything for their sisters to bury,” she said, quietly. “This is just my personal opinion -- I mean, I don’t know if you guys feel the same way-- but, this feels just as fishy as mom’s death. There’s something really, really wrong about all of this.”

[marylamode]

mary & jasmine || scssyspiced​

𝕔𝕠𝕗𝕗𝕚𝕟 𝕔𝕝𝕦𝕓. 𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕔𝕙 𝟚𝟘𝕥𝕙.

𝕔𝕒𝕡: 𝟘/𝟛

“I’m not sure I’ll be of much help.” jasmine quietly tells the other, smiling while she assists with the missing persons flyers. the only task pax has allowed her to partake in, due to his own anxious nature. it’s miracle he’s even let her out of the house but jasmine knows when to put her foot down. this time being one of them. “I do have social media, so I could always put the word out there. I mean, someone must have seen them. people just don’t disappear out of thin air.” though, she has to admit, it isn’t looking good. jasmine has seen enough true crime documentaries to know that after the 72 hour mark, the situation becomes even more dire. she doesn’t want to think the worst, hoping the sisters will be found safe and sound. that this was just one of dottie’s more colorful mishaps and not an abduction like so many believe. but faith is hard to keep. with a heavy sigh, jasmine sits down, reaching in her purse for a small bag of gummyworms. “would you like one? they’re all I can eat at the moment. I doubt anyone would feel pressed if I left early to eat. just don’t wanna be rude, you know?”

— “This was a really big thing in the eighties,” she said, glumly. Mary looked down at the flyer, its top edges limply bent as she held it in her hands. She found it too difficult to look directly into the eyes of the sisters’ smiling photographs. Could they had ever fathomed that when those pictures were taken, it’d one day be used on their own missing persons poster? It made the brunette feel incredibly sad, and she wished she were at home to properly hide under the covers. Mary had already organized several bots on social media to spread the word, sharing the girls’ pictures every hour on the dot. But so far, there’d been no new information to come from her efforts. 

“Um, well, I mean kidnapping has always been a really big thing,” she clarified. “But there was this big kidnapping scare, specifically. The fear was supposed to be in the air, you know? Whole communities would get swept up in a panic. Kids were no longer allowed to play outside. It feels like we’re just returning to that time.” Mary pushed the falling frames of her red, cat-eyed glasses back up her nose and tore her gaze away from the flyer. She was a wallflower girl, easily swallowed up by the club’s energized crowds. “So, it’s just really brave of you to be getting involved at all, even if you don’t think it’ll be much help,” she said. “Oh, uh, I do like the red ones! But are you sure? I mean, I don’t want to eat your only snack.”

[marylamode]

mary & maia || blacksheepfms​

Location: Giant Food Store parking lot @salemstart​​

Maia wasn’t exactly used to shopping for food by herself.  Sure she has shopped for food, she’s not inept, but Maia was always grew up living out of a suitcase so she never really experienced what it was like to stock up on groceries.  The longer she stayed in Salem the more she realized she needed to actually live off of normal food more than just vending machines and take out.  So her first trip to the Giant Food Store was pretty overwhelming for her.  Maia didn’t understand why there were so many choices to begin with.

After struggling between all the different brands and flavors, Maia was on her last nerve.  She quickly checked out and grabbed her paper bags.  Just as she was about to leave the parking lot to walk to the inn, the bottom of the bag ripped and her groceries went everywhere.  “Fuck. Are you kidding me?”  Maia mumbled to herself as she immediately crouched down to try to save what she could.  Seeing a can of soup go rolling towards someone she sighed and called out.  “Do you think you can grab that for me?  Or even kick it back over here?”

— It was her worst nightmare come to life: pushing a cart full of the week’s groceries only to realize she didn’t have her wallet. Waves of nausea passed through her as retraced her steps in the parking lot. It had been in the checkout line, a hundred dollars worth of groceries rung up, when she realized her purse had been open. Leaving had been horrible; she’d felt the weight of all eyes on her as she clumsily apologized, tucked her reusable shopping bags under her arm, and rushed out the store. Had her purse been open the whole time? Had it merely fallen out or was she a victim of pickpocketing at the supermarket of all places? “Please be in the car,” she groaned. 

As unnaturally as it felt in the heat of the moment, she forced herself to breathe in through her nose and out through her mouth. But before she could quell the knots in her stomach, the sound of canned goods hitting the ground spiked her nerves once more. Her shoulders hitched up in surprise. “Here, why don’t you take one of my bags? They’re those reusable plastic ones you can get at checkout. I have a bit of a collection.” She picked up the soup can, tossed it into the bag (which had a ridiculous design of smiling apples holding hands, so it was apparent she’d not inherited her father’s taste in the arts), and held it out to Maia by its cloth handle. 

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mary & safiya || hwyghost​

 “ you’re so right — i shouldn’t be reading into it being hexed. ” even if she thinks it legitimately could be. unfortunately, the opinion of this stranger won’t keep her from believing that probability — however unlikely it may seem. this is salem, after all … and safiya is a believer in all entities and supernatural forces. not too worried, though, hardly expecting bad karma to come her way. they’ve been decent and kind and, well, whatever other qualities make a good person good. as the woman explains the town and its need for tourists, they listen to every word. it’s an earnest opinion, and reasonable. safiya gently taps the counter with her hand, implying the basket be set down. despite the contents of twinkies and ho hos, doesn’t want the other to fuss with the basket for their conversation’s entirety — would feel a sliver of guilt, especially after initiating it. hasn’t heard anything unusual about this town and the residents, but she’s certainly a little superstitious. as the doll is examined, it’s held out just enough for the other to observe better had she wished to. “ or a gifted statue of liberty in new york city, i suppose … ” she’s right. maybe peculiarity was normal here. she’ll be better prepared tomorrow, will know what to expect when leaving the motel. “ it does resemble me, doesn’t it? enough to know it’s supposed to be me, anyway. ” safiya offers a smile. “ it is sweet in a craft fair grandma way, and i will cherish it. ” wasn’t planning on getting rid of it, despite implicating the bad energy that may come with it. “ has anything like this happened to you before? ”

— “Oh, me personally? I haven’t had the honor of getting a gift like that!” she said. “Everyone always tells me I’m quiet, so maybe I’m just so quiet that all these rumored ghosts and vampires never heard me arrive in town.” Mary’s arrival in town two months prior had been without much fanfare. If she were being honest with herself, she could’ve admitted to slight disappointment that there were no strange happenings, no otherworldly visions, and no midnight encounters with martians. She admired the doll for a moment longer, then set the basket of boxed goodies onto the counter for the cashier to scan. “Well, actually, I guess I have one sort of interaction with the supernatural,” she said, after a moment’s thought. Mary glanced down, the cat-eyed frames she’d fiddled with sliding down her nose. With the amount of time she spent shyly staring at her own two feet, it was a futile effort to keep pushing her glasses up. “I learned there’s a rumor that my dad’s girlfriend is a witch,” she said. “But as it turns out, she’s just this lonely lady that tries too hard and bakes too much. A trip to Hobby Lobby for supplies to make a doll like yours is as supernatural as that woman gets. I’m almost disappointed, you know, that I haven’t had a real chance at seeing some Salem spookiness. Did I let you down? I’m--not to presume, or anything like that, but I’m sure you were hoping to hear a story more exciting than that.”

[marylamode]

mary & safiya || hwyghost​

place & time of day: kum n go, sometime after 9pm *capping at 5! ( 0/5 )

already established the eccentricity of salem, and she’s hardly been here a week; sure, each interaction safiya’s had with its presumed locals have been predominantly in the motel parking lot, but have they not also been enlightening? she’d say so. take today, for instance. one of the motel’s handful of residents caught safiya leaving their room ( bearing a gift, too, though she’s still on the fence about whether or not she was the intended recipient ). it was this aforementioned gift that she’s been fidgeting with instead of doing whatever attendant duties she should be doing, like stocking the cooler or … shit, she’s still gotta sweep and mop the floors before shift change — after a glance in direction of the store’s clock, however, it’s decided almost instantaneously that there won’t be time, so safiya makes no effort to move from their cozy spot behind the counter. back pressed to the register, leaning against it while struggling to fasten the handmade doll to their cord necklace. once that’s done, safiya sighs emphatically. “ god — so sorry, i was a bit distracted. ” the doll sways from her necklace as she turns. “ think she looks like me? ” would’ve been creepy had safiya not found it so endearing. “ i think it was a welcome gift. didn’t have the heart to tell ‘em a welcome to salem note would’ve sufficed. ” spins it again between nimble fingers, for good measure. “ is that kinda thing normal? for this area. i mean, i like it and i’m certainly not complaining, but what if it’s like … hexed or something. ya know? ”

— “Hexed? I try not to put much weight into stuff like that,” she shrugged. “I’ve only been here a short while, I mean, and I’ve heard all kinds of strange things that can’t possibly be true. The locals have a reputation to uphold if they want to keep the tourists coming.” Mary had inherited her father’s stubborn distrust in anything they couldn’t see with their own eyes. It’s why visiting the gas station at this hour, despite all of its uncouth rumors, didn’t phase the otherwise meek woman. Originally having pulled over for gas, she’d decided it wouldn’t hurt to restock the pantry cabinet with goodies while she was out. The handle of a basket piled high with Twinkies and Ho Hos twisted in her grip. Her warm, brown eyes peered down at the handmade doll, appraising it with an air of shyness. “Wouldn’t it be similar to being given a Mickey Mouse headband if you move to Orlando? My guess is that it’s just part of this town’s brand,” she said. Mary pushed up a pair of red, cat-eye glasses that were slipping down the bridge of her nose. Compared to her family’s bravado, her charms came from her sweet, reserved nature. “I think it’s nice that they found a doll that resembles you. It’s sweet in that...that grandma who went to a craft fair to find something special kind of way.”