#g.musings

[containatrocity]

Earth Shatterin!

(Or, What the ContainAtrocity muses are up to post Event.)

DUCK has been restricted to bedrest and is doing his level best to recover, with his kids, Claire, Z, and Lucy visiting and sticking around to keep him company, he's gotten in touch with his hobbies a little more than he was willing to over the last while, working on a DND campaign, playing music, and getting back into his favorite video games on his dusty old playstation, to name a few. He misses work, and feels like a burden- but slowing down has done him some good. He can walk short distances, but this has to be supplemented with a cane and his knee brace.

RUSTY has similarly been forced to stay home, largely looked after by Sissy and Cyan, he's agitated with his inability to function as he normally does, making him more snippy/argumentative than he'd like to be. He spends his free time practicing his marksmanship now, much to the chagrin of his niece and Cyan, and has a tendency to push his luck, trying to go back to work, or make his way to help with Reggie's injuries.

ABSINTHE has found himself at a crossroads, untrusting of Raziel and his intentions for the commune he convinced Ondine to take Joei and leave for town, after coming clean about his true nature: He's Abel Fulci, an exorcist, a priest- a weapon, not an unfortunate wanderer. Temptation and anger paint his hours at home, and he's spending a notably larger amount of time at the chapel and the site of his fellow priests' deaths to try and organize thoughts- and avoid the ghost from their past.

CYAN Has been doing his best to restore the intranet around the town between looking after the Boone house and keeping Rusty from running off, and helping Sissy ready up for the winter. He has similarly been working on convincing G to calm down about the earthquake, when Unnamed Garage Band gets back together for a few hours of normalcy.

KB Has once again retreated into the safety of the radio station, but this fact is largely because his home was damaged, some structural issue inside causing the rune to be dysfunctional. As he tries to puzzle out what's going on there, he's thrown himself back into trying to integrate into town- terrified instead that he might die alone, instead of at all. He's returned to doing children's puppet shows and book readings at the libraries on specific weekends.

GABE has retreated into one of his his more harmful beliefs, that he is physically incapable of suffering any harm. He is regularly scratched, bruised, or banged up in various regards, largely from spills and foolishness he could have avoided. Despite this minor backslide, he's doing his best to help with rebuilding efforts, keeping in touch with the weirdlings, Unnamed Garage Band, and Declan between attending to the apartment he shares with Edgar and assisting his roommate with his recovery and looking after the rats, as his hands are still recovering.

MERCY Having a terribly out of character change of heart, he's thrown himself into assisting with the construction efforts around town, and has proven particularly knowledgeable about making the best of minimal, or damaged supplies. While his attitude seems to remain largely self-serving, the earthquake seems to have shaken something less cold loose within him- though navigating his grandiose demeanor and cruel tongue to find it remains difficult.

WREN has stepped into the Deputy Game Warden position to pick up the slack from her father's absence, and has placed her cashier position at the food market on a temporary hold- unless asked to fill in for a coworker. Still prone to overworking herself, she's managed to find a balance, though this is likely due to the constant presence of people in and out of the Romero house lightening her load enough that she feels comfortable enough to actually take some time to herself with her friends- or get some well-needed sleep.

ZIGGY has been assisting with efforts to rebuild, doing his best to attend to the minor issues of the townspeople that mean a lot- damaged belongings that can be fixed with a little care and attention. In the spaces between work, he's been visiting Bri and gathering the courage to ask Nattie to speak with him in private- rather certain he's worked out exactly who she is after their encounter at the festival.

OCTOBER has made himself comfortable at the Commune, using his stature and personality as a cudgel against people foolish enough to ask him to mind his manners or pull his weight. While he's playing along for now, picking up chores as required, he's grown to treat the common areas like his space- simply because no one in the commune is going to stop him. He continues to hover around Quinn- who's association with Raziel means the trio are often seen together- Much to October's general chagrin.

BUTTONS has resumed the roles she's always served, a quiet place to rest, a listening ear, and a problem solver. She has busied herself with providing care packages to the injured of food, sweets, and various other home remedies she can provide, and making certain that the mischief around the people trying to get better is kept at a general minimum. She continues to offer childcare services to those who need them around town, especially those with young children now working to help care for townsfolk, or putting town back in order.

LEX continues to be the town's cold, silent observer, judging and watching those around him operate. He has made it clear that his services are available to any suffering trauma in the aftermath of the earthquake or people possibly recovering from head injuries, and his touch is notedly gentler in the wake of something fresh. He continues to drink a coffee with a splash of milk and two sugars every morning like clockwork at the diner, and being a general miser.

ROBIN Romero has been tossing things into the big ol' hole in the middle of town. He's pretty sure he's worked out where the bottom is through science. While he stays a good several feet from the edge, his fixation on it seems to be to avoid his upset about his father's 'near-death' experience.

[bogdan29091996]

Jamie & Zach | Wedding Highlights from G.Muse Studios on Vimeo.

Jamie & Zach. Best moments of their special day edited to music. Shot at the The Hyatt in Bethesda, Maryland.

[containatrocity]

Curse this agonising frailty that I am She is beautiful and I am c a t a s t r o p h i c As I reach to her with more than just my hands, I say: "I am anxious. I am scared. I am anything but well prepared. And I know just what I want- and what I want right now is this." "In my soul there is a fire that this body can't contain-- Please don't let me burn away." I am meant for something more.

[containatrocity]

The killer found the cure // But cannot be forgiven // Her blood sheds as it spreads // Another Rash Decision.

G Westfall: Plague Doctor Alchemist

-Hood from img 1 -Costume and mask from img 2 (sans hat) -Clip on potions and reagents from img 3

Having not intended to attend the event at all, it's surprising perhaps that G managed to pull out an outfit as impressive as the one he's wearing. Using the week beforehand to scrounge around and trade with the townspeople for the supplies for a rather capable plague doctor costume. Dragged along by Cyan- and reasoning that if anything, he can snack and look at the things out of the norm the artists around town might sell during the week. He's also elected to get drunk on anything he can get his hands on at the event, the potion bottles at his waist filled with mead, moonshine, and anything else that might burn going down, it's everything he can do to be functional around this many people. The side effect, of course, being that with his face hidden, voice muffled, and liquor in his veins, he's inarguably far more confident than he might be otherwise- no nervousness constantly lingering to damper it.

[containatrocity]

THE GHOULISH: GABRIEL "G" WESTFALL

Fractal, how the pattern repeats itself. Its smallest details repeat indefinite- I hear a voice from an empty room make small talk.

"I'm Gabriel Westfall. Most people just call me G, anymore. I'm 27 years old and I grew up here in Huntsville. Growing up, I wanted to be a horror novelist, but I work as a Cashier at the Food Market, now. I've been an orphan since I was sixteen, and according to my single visit to a therapist... ever- I suffer from Cotard's Syndrome. I've spent the past 12 years grappling with the fact- though some would call it a belief- that I am dead, and one of the ghosts that haunts the woods around Huntsville- I'm simply too capable at mimicry, and can't work out how to get home. I don't spend much time around the commune, as most people give me a wide berth. My fatal flaw has always been my upset that I never got to leave Huntsville often leading to outbursts and the fact my view of the self is so skewed I'm sometimes a danger to myself and others."

Name: Gabriel Ezekiel Westfall

Aliases: Gabe, G, Gibbs

Age: 27 (February 27th)

Sexuality/Gender: unsure of both. for now, he's comfortable enough using He/Him.

Personality: Gabe is a quick witted, socially awkward young man, with a tendency to come across as a know-it-all. He's confident despite his strangeness, brave to a fault, due to his belief he's already dead and some kind of monstrous creature, he's got a tendency to charge into things headlong without thinking them through, often ending with an injury of two. Despite his strangeness, he's a loyal friend and doggedly reliable companion, having at least accepted within the frame of his delusions that the people around him would be killed if he did something stupid, he's relatively harmless, now. He has a tendency to flash to anger relatively quick, however, if treated like he's stupid, or given pushback on his delusional thinking- the opposite is also true, far more personable, if people are willing to operate within the thoughts he holds to be true, and due to his loyal nature- this could cause issue, in the future.

Occupation: Cashier at Food Market, aspiring author, scavenger and forager when given the free time to seek things out for trade.

Affiliations: No known affiliations outside the Westfalls, and the Cho family.

Scent Profile: The sickly sweet smell of tilled earth and blood, tattoo ink and dusty silk flowers. The comforting, musty smell of an old book and pencil graphite. there's something oddly chemical that clings as well, like house paint or leatherworking supplies.

Aesthetic: Too many hours spent under the awning of mausoleums, the sun setting high overhead and the stars starting to leak through, thousands of cosmic eyes watching pen across paper. Denim jackets and long hair, tattoos and other displays of threat, to engage distance between you and the living. The lid of a pine box kicked shut over the face of someone far too young- screams until your throat's raw that you're alive, you're alive- until some part of you beneath the desperate clawing at the lid believes the laughing high above. Bugs eating away at something still too alive, no funeral or stone for a boy who never died. Blood in teeth, blood in claws, maybe not dead, but maybe not human. something off. something wrong. Something cosmically strange. Something worth burying in the woods all too young, like you have been.

The fear has to stem from something! The horde I can hear from my couch, wanting eyes on them. Significance. Just take it and go away....

CHAPTER ONE: LIFE IN HUNTSVILLE POST PARADOX

While Gabe's mental health seems only to have deteriorated in the past 11 years- the treatment for his comorbid disorders medicine he simply has no access to- He's managed, through the help of his scant few friends, to integrate into town safely with only minimal difficulty, in the event the ghosts haunting the town or G's ultimate fate is brought up. It's fact enough that he's started going by "G" since his 'death', no longer entirely identifying with the name "Gabe" or "Gabriel" as he believes that boy died at 15, in a shallow grave, in a pine box in the woods. He remembers the location, and has created a makeshift memorial- taking his days off to sit beside his 'grave' and smoke, pick dirt from beneath his nails, and write, as he always has.

He, much like the ghost he believes himself to be, drifts from point to point, days spent at work or in the woods, in the graveyard, and then back to the Cho home- to lock himself in his bedroom for the course of the night, the person who trusts him the least in town surely himself. There is avoidance- of the sister who saved him, of the classmates still living who made him this way, of the church and the commune and the lingering conviction that he is a stranger here, wrong among the living, something rotting and hosting bugs and stench. He wants to make connections, but knows better than to think most would want him around. The bones tattooed on his fingers and arms wound with funerary flowers. His body a eulogy to a life he never even allowed himself to live, 12 years a corpse, only 15 a boy.

In the wake of many deaths, G has, perhaps inversely- made the move to be more personable, spending his time writing in the library, instead of out beneath the great tree that had once served as his burial site, chewing his nails to the quick. He pretends he can't hear the whispering. It's almost funny, he thinks. That in a town wrapped with fear, with murder and death painting it's streets- that some still find the time to think he's strange.

[containatrocity]

"Don't you know he'll never be gone, for good. And we'll never get out of the woods..."

[containatrocity]

[containatrocity]

You've been frightened by the monsters but Your skin is not your own Now stare into the mirror And behold your wretched face Do you understand that you are not The child you replaced? You'll give in to the hunger Go and make yourself some friends The might of the subconscious- Binding us until the end A perfect simulacrum Bred to mimic, born to kill Now go and join the others And do thy creator's will....

[containatrocity]

Who has had the most influence on you? ( G )

"You mean to tell me you're a 27 year old virgin?"

"So you remember the part where I said my parents were insane religious zealots convinced that we were the only people truly 'loyal to God' and therefore would have to live in accordance with the Bible forever? How Constance didn't really consider me a 'person' so much as I was an empty shell for the molding of our parents into whatever 'God' wanted and only saved my life because she was convinced if she let me die they'd punish her eternally with hellfire? I want you to think for a second about how premarital sex would go over with that kind of person."

"oh right. That shit's heavy, dude."

"Yeah. Understatement... Pass me the shrooms."

Despite his best efforts, the people who's influence lingers the most on G's psyche remain his parents and older sister Constance. Raised staunchly religious in a way that prioritized being a "Vessel for God's Will," Gabriel wasn't allowed to do many things a normal child, or teenager would growing up- dressed entirely in accordance with gender roles, kept from secular music, television, and other media, and taught that if he didn't save the other kids he hung around they'd burn in Hell, it was really G's parents that set him up for failure, ostracizing the boy before he could even really think for himself by fostering delusions that he was the only thing stood between himself, his friends, and damnation.

He'd find himself bullied, preaching to kids with no interest in hearing about God from a know it all kid who'd watched approximately 4 hours worth of TV in his entire life, his parents would insist that the way he was being treated was a test- God's task for him to prove his dedication- He'd stick to this belief, with very few friends and only writing and reading books he wasn't allowed to have in the school library for company until high school- until his burial.

Something would snap in Gabe after the hazing, his faith in God shaken and crumbled- as surely, he'd died- he should be in Heaven- he'd followed all the rules. He'd deconstruct over the next decade, and find himself decidedly agnostic- if a higher power existed, G would have nothing to do with it. However, his parents' wants still linger even ten years after their deaths, and deconstructed as he may be, G finds himself regularly slipping back into worries about their teachings- that he might find himself in hell, if he doesn't behave- that his mode of dress, long hair, and engagement in 'evil' secular media will damn him to a fate worse than Huntsville.

He still remembers every prayer worked into him with the switch- every hateful word taught by a preacher three-towns over- they find him in his sleep, when he least expects it, and sometimes, he wishes that the dark would bring the usual crawling fear of rotting to pieces instead.

At least decay was of nature- an inarguable fact of life.

Surely, a band tee shirt and feeling comfortable in his skin isn't as evil as the voice of his father in the back of his head insists it must be.

[containatrocity]

"Here am I, take me to the pearly gate.

So I can look you in the eye when I spit in your face!

Here am I, take me to the pearly gates.

Don't let them hit you on the way out when I take your place!"

[containatrocity]

I see through you, I know what you are. I've seen the devil more than I've seen God. And when he has you by your neck- I hope you choke on every word you said.