#l.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.

[containatrocity]

THE CANARY: KERRY "LEX" COLEMAN

So long live the car crash hearts, cry on the couch all the poets come to life- Fix me in forty-five.

"Doctor Kerry Aleksandre Coleman. Though most people call me Lex or Doc. I'm 35 years old, and while I was born in Montpellier, France, I studied psychology and law in New York City where I would quickly make a name for myself as a capable criminal psychologist in several high-profile cases. At least, I had until three years ago when the long-distance trip I was making to testify in a case took a wrong turn and stranded me in Huntsville. The night of my arrival took several things from me, including my pregnant wife and any hope I had of leaving this place ever again. While I do not fall victim to many vices, I've been described as a harsh, apathetic man who largely cares only for results. Suppose that's good news though, given I've been one of the town's only practicing psychiatric health professionals since 2020."

Name: Dr. Kerry Aleksandre Coleman

Aliases: Lex, Canary, Shrinky Dink, Doc, Ker-bear

Age: 35 (December 31st)

Sexuality/Gender: Bisexual Demiromantic Cis (?) Man he/they

Personality: Lex is a hard man to love. Apathetic, harsh, and short in temper, his tendency to tell people what they need to know but don't want to hear has made him little more than a necessary evil to the people of Huntsville. He is good at his work, sessions with him regularly setting heads back into place on shoulders in a place where it's easy to spiral. A logical, intelligent sort, it's easy to forget he's human, sometimes, speaking in large words and difficult terms when he's in 'work mode' and unwilling, truly, to let that part of him slip, he is sardonic even beneath it, blessed with a cutting wit and a head like a steel trap, mentally sound- but wounded, nonetheless, a grief looms below the surface- he suffocates it under other people's problems and the promise that someday he'll die too.

Occupation: Criminal Psychologist, currently serving as a psychotherapist in Huntsville for the... hard cases.

Affiliations: Mostly just police departments outside of Huntsville, and various reporters who use him as a source.

Scent Profile: Something expensive and musky, used sparingly as he's been stuck here for some time. The cloying smell of oil used to ensure the joints in his hand function correctly, cigar smoke, biting and sharp, flowing with sandalwood and real, rich leather. Sweet mint on teeth and tongue, fresh and bright to mask nicotine and coffee.

Aesthetic: A perfectly pressed suit and a cup of to-go coffee from the corner shop- a stop in your favorite bodega, for something bad for you from the heated cabinets. An analog watch on the wrist of a prosthetic arm, set perfectly to the second- time is money and he won't waste a dime. Man's best friend with a leather collar hand-stamped with his name, fluffy white hairs clinging to clothes betraying a harsh demeanor with something soft. Metal on metal, glass floating in the air- the screech of tires, the smell of gasoline and the whole of your world ending, right in front of you- rising to your feet and dusting off- you were not raised to quit.

The only thing I haven't done yet is die- And it's me and my plus one at the afterlife.

CHAPTER ONE: LIFE IN HUNTSVILLE POST ARRIVAL

Regarded largely as a necessary evil in town, Lex hasn't made many friends in Huntsville in his 3 years there since the car accident that inadvertently saved his life and ended three others. He is a capable doctor, with a vested interest in improving the lives of the people who come to see him, even those most others would deem hopeless, but it's at a professional distance, not friends to be helped or people to be cured, but case studies to be completed, something to sign, seal, and deliver to the desk of the next person tasked with their existence. He can't do much for some people- certain disorders would mitigate with medicine, others are tied to the town itself, but therapy sessions are oddly gentle, albeit blunt, when helping people is all he has left, it's become his entire existence, jaded and cold as he may be. He spends much of his time in the diner, drinking coffee and going over patient files, or simply people-watching, with Baguette the corgi set obediently beside his feet, the only other survivor of his arrival- the dog he 'didn't want.'

His habit of sleeping with the 'exceptionally hard cases' isn't common knowledge, but it's whispered- those he can't seek to fix in a 45 minute session, with a similar arms-length approach to others invited as temporary salvo on the ache in his heart and mind, his whole life was ripped away upon arriving, craving physical intimacy and emotional distance with the ability to read people well enough to find those just broken enough to provide. He's made his home and office in a small townhouse in the middle of Huntsville, living above his place of work, "Dr. Kerry A. Coleman Psy. D." on a front window in careful penmanship, his office hours in similar gold strict and unwavering, as are most things about Lex.

[containatrocity]

"I've lived my life playing Russian Roulette- But I'm still not dead yet! So put another bullet in, And give the chamber a spin! Click-Click-Bang! It all goes black, What's done is done- And I can't go back. it seems like, luck was not on my side this time."

[containatrocity]

You ever think about how easy it'd be to turn The steering wheel an inch or two And meet the sea? Oh I never would Though it may be fun to believe- It's just a sick little daydream.