A study in the stages of grief

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Felix flinched when Ash grabbed his arm–not because it hurt, but because the contact brought him back. His eyes were wide, tear-bright, and wild with panic, but the second he saw the way Ash was swaying, how his face had gone pale and his voice was barely there, something in Felix clicked.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Be useful. Help. Now.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Yes! Yes, I’ve got it,” he said quickly, already fumbling for his bag. His fingers shook so badly it took three tries to unzip it, and when he finally pulled the phone out–big, clunky, and covered in sticker residue from when he’d tried to make it ‘less ugly’--he nearly dropped it.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He hit the call button with his thumb and held the phone to his ear, trying to keep it steady. It was one of those big bricks–the kind that was ridiculously expensive and he’d last used it the night he met Leo, to call his neighbors–but tonight it was something that would hopefully help his friend.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “You’re okay,” Felix whispered, one arm around his shoulders to steady him. His other hand held the phone, knuckles white. “You’re okay, you’re okay. Help’s coming. Just, oh, don’t pass out.” He really could have been talking to himself at that point, too.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He glanced toward the water gun booth–at the flickering lights, the unnatural emptiness, the smell still clinging sharp in the air like burnt plastic and metal–and felt his stomach twist. “That wasn’t water,” he murmured, half to himself. What was going on?

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He forced the thoughts down. He wouldn’t be good to either of them if he kept freaking out.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “You're doing so good,” Felix said, his voice trembling even as he tried to make it soothing. “Just keep breathing, Ash. I’ve got you. I promise. I’m not going anywhere.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The line clicked in his ear, and Felix’s voice pitched up again as he gave the dispatcher their location, hands still tight around Ash like he could anchor him to the world through touch alone. He didn’t dare look at Ash’s arm again. He couldn’t. If he did, he was scared he’d lose what little calm he had left.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The medics arrived faster than he expected–flashes of red and white cutting through the carnival haze, all sharp motion and clipped instructions. They moved quickly, efficiently, guiding Ash toward the back of the ambulance. Felix followed without hesitation, only to be stopped by a man in uniform who raised a hand to block his path.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Only family or designated loved ones,” the man said, firm but not unkind.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Felix stared at him, dumbfounded, as if the words physically didn’t compute. “Are you kidding?” he said, voice pitching up as the panic rose again. He gestured wildly between himself and Ash. “Look at us. We’re clearly related.” His face was comically serious, like he was trying to manifest a shared bloodline through sheer force of will.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ When the man didn’t budge, Felix took a deep breath and dropped the act, his voice quiet but full of weight. “I’m not leaving him alone.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ For a second, it was a silent standoff–just the sound of carnival music drifting in the distance and Ash’s labored breathing behind them. Then, finally, the medic stepped aside with a short nod.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Felix didn’t wait for a second invitation. He clambered in after Ash.

#c: felix #whispersandwraiths

the wait for the ambulance felt like an eternity, it wasn't long before the searing pain of the acid caused ash to burst into tears. he couldn't help it as the tears streamed down his face, blurring his vision. "i need to...i need to sit down or i think i'm gonna pass out."

he glances around his surroundings, black eating at the edge of his periphery, his body threatening to give out. the carnival somehow seems even more distorted now, colors and shapes swimming together. ash manages to find a funnel cake stand nearby and tugs felix in the direction of it, crossing the distance to it and collapsing against the side.

"did they say how long it was going to be?" he asks, voice strained and breath short. closing his eyes, he rests his head on the side of the food stand. he can hear his heart pounding in his ears and he starts taking deep breaths, attempting to at least somewhat regulate his body.

when he opens his eyes again, ash wipes the tears from his eyes and looks at felix, taking in the sight of his distraught friend. he feels a twinge of guilt at how their day has gone, even if he knows he has no control over it. no one could have predicted that ash would be attacked today, yet there's part of him that feels remorse for it.

"today was supposed to be a good day." he states, voice slightly steadier now. "i was supposed to have a good day at the carnival with my friend today and this is what happens. i should've known something would go wrong, guess that's just my luck. i'm so stupid, i'm sorry our day got ruined, felix."

when the ambulance finally arrives, the paramedics are quick to focus their attention on ash. he manages to muster enough strength to lift himself on the gurney, head falling back against the pillow in relief. hearing felix argue with the paramedics about coming with him, he sits up.

"let them in, i want them to come with me. i don't want to go alone." his voice is firm, he's not going to let felix be left here by themself. they've just had a traumatic experience along with ash, even if they aren't injured they deserve to know that ash is okay.

he'll be damned if he lets a friend of his be alone in a state like this, ash can see that felix isn't okay right now. ash wouldn't be either(and he isn't, but in a different sense), how could you after seeing your friend get attacked?

once inside the ambulance, with his friend in tow, the paramedics start doing what they can to manage the damage already caused. ash inhales through his teeth with a hiss as they work to rinse off the acid, body tensing as he attempts to manage the pain. he looks to his side and sees felix, who's still looking panicked and upset.

"would it be weird if i asked to hold your hand? i can't--" he hisses again as another wave of pain hits him, cutting off his sentence. "i need something to ground me, this really hurts."

"His stuff's great. He spoke at my university and I was able to get him to sign my copy of The Martian Chronicles. Interesting man," Calvin stated. He really was a peculiar author. He'd spent much of his talk at Cornell degrading higher education while singing the praise of places like libraries instead certainly an interesting take for a man to have when speaking to the collegiate elite.

Calvin had expected he'd need to produce some identification and he pulled out his wallet to produce his ID. "I'm sure I've got a gas bill or something in my car," he stated as he slid his driver's license over for the man to check out. "You sure I really need to grab it. I can tell you my address, I've got a place in town," Calvin went on. Not that his ID reflected that. His address on his driver's license was for his home in Seattle where Calvin actually lived even though he'd be spending the greater part of the next couple of years down here in Cardinal Hill over seeing the construction of the hotel he was working on.

"really?" ash looks up, his eyebrows lifting in mild surprise at the man's statement. he always feels almost envious of people who've had once in a lifetime experiences like that, almost like life passes ash by sometimes. "i'd love to have a conversation with him, he has a lot of intriguing perspectives. i know it's less widely known but i like his book dandelion wine."

"okay, thank you." he replies automatically, moving the id closer to get a better look at it. it checked out, so he slid it back to cal and pulled a form from an organizer on his desk. "if you have the address memorized then by all means, you just gotta jot it down on here. also, please sign and date here." he points to the field as he speaks, pushing the form in cal's direction. "i trust you can handle the rest from here, bring it back to me when you're done and all that's left is the processing fee."

#c: cal #wcirdo

montesgarden

closed starter for ash (@footnotesoftherecentlydeceased) located in monte's backyard

The smell of weed and tobacco filled the air. It was one of the nicest nights they'd seen in awhile according to Monte. The air was crisp, yet filled with the moisture of the impending rain that would ensue in the coming hours. They were free from the bugs, hiding from the approaching storm, and with the sun having sunk into the hillside, it was the perfect temperature to enjoy the patio without baking in the sun. While he had an awning, with that kind of building-storm humidity it acted as a shauna. This was the perfect time to partake in the evening before things got much more damp. After taking a hit from the pipe, it was held out for Ash, while holding the smoke in his lungs to further encourage the high. Upon exhaling, he returned to their conversation. "I know they've made like way too many Freddy movies, but I kind of want to see the new one." He thought for a moment before turning back to his friend. "Might be a rent, though, my co-worker saw it this weekend with her boyfriend and said somehow this one was even worse than Dream Master." Even when they continued to get more horrible and lose quality with each release, Monte couldn't help himself, finding a particular joy in bad horror.

#c: montes #montesgarden #drug use tw

ash had gotten to know montes over the period of living in cardinal hill, finding common ground in the fact that both of them were stoners. it was something that ash took a quiet comfort, especially after elias' death. he found that these days he didn't usually want to be in his own head and montes was someone ash considered enough of friend to smoke with. taking the pipe from his friend, he takes relights the bowl and takes another hit, coughing as he exhales, letting the smoke linger for a moment before blowing it out. "dude, i'm sorry, but i'm honestly so over the slasher genre." he says, rubbing the back of his neck as he gathers his thoughts. "like first there was psycho, then halloween and friday the 13th. all of those are pretty cool, but then they came out with nightmare on elm street and child's play..." he trails off for a second, blinking slowly. "they really kinda lost me with the whole serial killer in your dreams and killer doll thing, i'm not gonna lie."

stoopidtuff

༝༝ 🚬 ༝༝

Ashley wasn't feeling any fun that day, much to his chagrin. A groan pressed through his forming frown, unamused at the lack of continued play from his partner. "Come on, don't be like that," he cooed, starting to mosey around the counter towards him. Nibs wasn't giving up so easily. This had been the only interesting customer he'd gotten all shift; he couldn't let Ash go so easily, not without trying to entice him. "If I didn't care, I wouldn't be annoying, ever think about that?" Nibs placed a hand over his heart or where it would be if he still had one beating. It'd been hardened by time, but an occasional worm snuck through his shell. "Maybe it's how I show my love, Ashley."

#blackcatxmagic #c: davis #injury tw #hospital tw

he scoffs at nibs, this comment actually earning a hollow laugh from ash. in the time he had known the other, ash had become well-accustomed to the sorts of antics the gas attendant was known for. in fact, he actually tried to avoid the gas station whenever possible just because he knew that nibs worked there. but, as what typically happens with owning a car, ash always ran out of gas eventually. "well, your love is less romantic and more...a pain in my ass." he muttered, tossing a bag of sour patch kids onto the counter separating them.

#stoopidtuff #c: nibs

status: closed @blackcatxmagic (for davis)

where: one sundae, two spoons

ever since ash went through the incident at the carnival, life had felt like it'd gone by in a blur. truth be told, he hardly remembered anything about the attack, probably because of shock or pain-- possibly both. today, he was celebrating one week since being discharged from the hospital. so he figured, what better way to celebrate than to grab some ice cream?

even though it was september, ash felt it was still warm enough that the frosty treat wouldn't be too out of season. he stands in line, deliberating over which flavor he should get, when he notices davis also inside the small store. "oh. hey, davis!" he calls out to the other, giving a small wave and smile.

"sorry i haven't seen you much since the carnival, i've kinda had a lot going on." he states sheepishly, self-consciously tugging at the sleeves on his shirt in an attempt to cover the prominent red scars on his forearms. the grafted skin itches faintly and he shifted slightly, keeping his arms close as he ignores the urge to scratch.

he offers a small, awkward shrug, fidgeting with the strap on his bag. "i, uh...i hope you've been doing okay."

Closed starter for Ash Wolffe ( @footnotesoftherecentlydeceased ) Location: Cardinal Health after Plot Drop 9

Mackenzie hadn't been able to predict the dramatic shift in his day. When he had checked his crystal ball in the morning nothing he saw gave him any inclination that his night would end up how it did. Mac had gone to work like normal and had been in the shower washing away the day when he got a phone call. Any other time Mac would've let the call go to voicemail but something in him compelled him to cut his shower short and reach the phone in the nick of time. The last call he expected to receive had come from a nurse at the hospital requesting his presence on Ash's behalf. Mac felt his stomach turn into knots being unable to get much information out of the other person on the line before hanging up.

Mackenzie rushed to the hospital after frantically throwing on clothes. He was directed to Ash's room and he braced himself unsure of what he was about to walk into. Last he'd heard from Ash, which had quite literally been the night before, he'd heard he was planning to hit the carnival one last time before it left town. It had been an invitation that had been extended to Mac but he had to decline needing to work today. How things could've gone in such a way for Ash to wind up in the hospital was unfathomable to Mac.

After one final deep breath Mac cautiously knocked on the door of Ash's hospital room before he let himself in. "Hi," he greeted the man laying in the hospital bed. An initial sigh of relief washed over him seeing the man was alert even though it was clear he'd been injured. Mackenzie approached the bed swiftly though he didn't dare touch Ash. He looked painful and the last thing he wanted to do was add any more discomfort. "Are...are you okay?" Mac asked which felt like a stupid question right now. "You were.... burned?" Mac went on. That was about all the nurse had told him on the phone but how it happened was a mystery to Mac and while he didn't want to flood Ash with questions right now he couldn't help but get the most burning questions out of his mind.

#c: mac #wcirdo #hospital tw #injury tw

today was supposed to be a good day. ash and his friend, felix, had gone to the carnival together, planning to enjoy the last day of it. neither could have anticipated how it would end, with acid thrown on ash and searing his forearms. he had only been sitting in the hospital for less than an hour, medical staff tending to his wounds. when asked for an emergency contact, the only phone number that came to mind was mac, he didn't have any family in washington. the nurse had told him mac was on the way, and ash waited, heart hammering, in the sterile, white room.

he closed his eyes as the hospital staff works on him, wincing as he felt water rinse the acid off his skin. pain medication had been given to him, but even with the anesthetics. he felt stabbing pain as the staff worked. he took several deep breaths in an attempt to steady himself through the process, he knows it's neccessary in order to manage the damage that had already been done.

when he hears a knock on the door, his eyes fly open and he sits up, resulting in mild protest from the hospital workers. he gives mac a weak smile, he can't imagine how vulnerable he looks right now. when the other gets closer to him, ash reaches for his hand without thinking, flinching back with a groan as he receives sharp pain in response to his sudden movement. "mac," he manages between shuddering breaths. "i'm gonna be okay... i have some pretty bad burns on my arms though. when felix and i were at the carnival, someone threw acid on me, i don't know what happened. doctors are saying i'm gonna need skin grafts on my arms."

he lets himself fall back on the hospital bed as the pain subsides some, closing his eyes and letting out a deep sigh. "i'm sorry you have to see me like this."

#c: leon #ash; leon #AUGGGHHH THE CUTIESSS

It's close to midnight...something evil's lurking in the dark. Under the moonlight, you see a sight that almost stops your heart. @footnotesoftherecentlydeceased

✿ Closed starter for Ash (@footnotesoftherecentlydeceased) immediately after plot drop 9.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ It was the last thing they’d agreed to do before heading out for the evening–one final game before calling it a night. Felix had been grateful the two of them had been able to hangout. Really grateful. It’d been a while since he’d seen his friend this relaxed, this present. There’d even been laughter. Honest-to-goodness laughter that didn’t sound like it was trying to cover up a storm.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ They’d split a lemonade that had a little smiley face drawn on the side in marker, and Felix had made a big deal about it–of course he had. He’d taken a photo with it in the booth, even. “Look at it,” he’d said, holding it up with both hands like it was a prized artifact. “It’s happy to be here.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Felix had never been great at the games, but that didn’t really matter. For him, it was all about the experience. The sounds of bells, the colorful chaos of booths and booths of stuffed animals, the smell of popcorn and fried dough in the warm night air–it all wrapped around him like a soft, sticky blanket. He’d gotten swept up in it, caught in the simplicity of trying to hit targets with a stream of water, laughing when his aim went wild.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ By the time they made it to the water gun booth, his earlier nerves–the flicker of tension he always carried in his chest these days–had mostly faded. He was smiling. Focused. Present. The bell rang, the timer buzzed, and he watched as the balloon swelled until a ding ran out. Grinning, he turned toward Ash, ready to see him celebrating too.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Except–

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Felix blinked. His smile faltered.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ash was there–but not the way he was supposed to be. He was on the ground.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Ash?” Felix’s voice came out confused, light at first.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Then he saw it.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The liquid. The burns. The warped, blistered red climbing up his friend’s arms like fire had touched him. Felix’s eyes went wide, and for a second, he froze. Then: “Ash!”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He practically leapt off the platform, landing hard, his knees jarring from the impact. “Help!” he screamed, voice cracking as panic surged up his throat. “Somebody, please–he’s–!”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ His hands moved on instinct. He tore off his shirt with trembling fingers, dropped beside Ash, and pressed the fabric forward–then stopped. What was he doing? What was he supposed to do? The burns looked raw, wet, too far beyond anything a normal accident could explain. Felix’s hands hovered uselessly above the injuries. The fabric of his shirt hung awkwardly in the air.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Okay, are you okay? No, oh my God, Ash. Your arms, no, of course you’re not okay,” his voice was high-pitched trembling, and the guilt that swirled in his chest was enormous. “Oh my God, Ash, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. We should have just left, I’m sorry.” He covered his mouth with his palms, and he knew that panicking wouldn’t do either of them good, but he couldn’t help it.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ It happened again.

#c: felix #hearthandhallows #vomit tw #gore tw #blood tw #violence tw #ignore the blood on his face

going out with felix made ash feel like he had reached some semblance of normalcy again. for the first time in months he wasn't constantly thinking about elias, overwhelmed with grief and guilt. he had blamed himself for the incident that caused the death, feeling like he could or should have done something to prevent it.

running around with felix made that feeling go away, he was finally able to laugh and enjoy small things without the gnawing guilt in his stomach. he'd made his friend go on a fair amount of the rides, but not the too extreme ones. he wanted both of them to have a good time and ash knew that carnival rides had tendency to be jerky or half-broken down. best to be safe and not take any chances on the riskier ones.

when they're at the water gun game, ash is smiling, feeling a little competitive as he races with felix for the prize. but then, something changes. ash's balloon pops, but suddenly he looks up and the lights dim slightly, the surroundings in his vision blurring. he blinks and mumbles a half-remembered protection charm, only to notice that nothing happens. "wait, what?"

the absence of his magic is so jarring that he's dragged out of the moment for a second, wondering what's going on until another pop! jolts him out of his daze. he flinches at each pop of a balloon, they seem to get louder and closer with each one. the last one seems to come from right next to him, startling him enough to fall of his stool. he feels wetness on himself, looking down and seeing moisture on his shirt and arms.

as he stares at, the liquid starts burning and he watches in horror as it eats away at the fabric and skin it touched. chemical smell stinging his nostrils, he realizes with horror that what he had been doused with wasn't water, but acid. he pushes himself up off the ground, touching the area of his arm that was splashed without really thinking. the skin moves, loose and wet, completely unlike how healthy skin should be. he feels a wave of nausea come over him and rushes to the nearest trash can before vomiting into it.

every breath tasted like rust and chemicals, the carnival music devolving into a garbled echo that made his head spin. ash can see his vision becoming a little blurry around the edges, but managed to find his way back to felix. getting back to his friend was the only thing keeping him upright, his hazy thoughts honing in on their presence. "i don't...what did...what's happening?"

he looks back at the water gun game, the lights now flickering and looking warped in his vision. everyone else had stepped back before the incident, no one was around to help, the laughter and shouts muffled and distant.

with trembling hands, he reaches out to felix, clutching their arm like a lifeline. the feel of the other's presence grounds him enough to gain some lucidity. "do you...do you have your phone on you?" he asks weakly, knees threatening to buckle as nausea washes over him again. "call 911. can you do that?"

Closed starter for Ash Wolffe ( @footnotesoftherecentlydeceased ) Location: Cardinal Hill Library

Despite being an avid reader, Cal rarely stepped foot into a library. Given how rough he could be with his books and his proclivity to pick up a novel and reread it over and over again; borrowing books didn't make much sense to Cal. He found himself at the Cardinal Hill library for the first time since he began his temporary relocation to Cardinal Hill over a year ago because he actually had books in mind he intended to only borrow.

After some perusing of the local history section, Cal had acquired a small stack of books he thought might be useful to him. He brought his selections up to the librarian who was sat at the checkout desk reading a book and set them on the counter. "Good book," Cal commented being nosy enough to read the title off the book in the man's hands. "I was hoping to get a library card started to check these out," Cal said getting right to business. While he was in no rush to get anywhere at the moment he wasn't one to dilly dally a task especially one for work.

the library provided ash with a sense of routine, it was a reason for him to get out of bed most mornings. the work was easy enough, he couldn't say that it was mentally taxing to have to check in books, shelve them, and check out patrons. the most he was asked to do was guide someone to a book or look for a specific author, but he didn't mind that much.

he looks up from the copy of fahrenheit 451 that he had been rereading, placing a bookmark in the book in order to help the man. "oh, thanks. i really just wanted to familiarize myself with bradbury's work again. i like his writing." he keeps the explanation brief, the man doesn't need a detailed explanation for his reasoning. "sure, do you have a photo id and proof of residency? i know it's kind of annoying, but it's library policy."

#c: cal #wcirdo

ritualove

Silas was watching people at the fish game, waiting for his turn as all the poles were taken by customers. The gentle flow of the plastic ducks bobbing around in circles was strangely hypnotic. As Ash talked to him, Silas took the newly avaliable pole from the workers hand. "Ah, it's all about skill. Watch this." Silas said, grin on his face and he went for a duck. It actually took him longer than he would like to admit, but when he did eventually attach a duck on his line and pull it out of the water, the worker revealed nothing but the shade of yellow that was all over the duck. He wasn't able to win any prize at all. "Shit. I'm just warming up though." The grin on his face showed that he really wasn't serious at all, but the fact he didn't even get a small prize did annoy him a little bit.

he gives a small laugh as he watches the man's bad luck, feeling sympathetic to his misfortune. "it's deceptive, isn't it? snagging a duck is all too easy, but the issue is you don't know what color it has on the bottom." ash is all too familiar with how these sorts of games claim to be, looking like no skill is required when you either need sheer luck or strategy to win.

"if it makes you feel any better all i've won so far is a little keychain." he holds up the aforementioned item, which has a cheap plastic dinosaur hanging from it. "think i'm gonna call him bernie."

#c: silas #ritualove

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Leon’s cheeks flushed a little, but his smile only grew, soft and earnest. He tucked his hands into his pockets like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them. “Yeah. Really.” His voice was quiet, but there was no doubt in it. “You have this… way of making things feel grounded and a little eerie but still beautiful, you know? Like, I feel like your version of autumn isn’t all fake leaves and pumpkins. It’s… quiet woods and foggy windows and old books with stories still stuck between the pages.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He glanced toward one of the hanging herb bundles and then back at Ash, expression fond. “I think I wanted the space to feel like that. Like something… I dunno, maybe just a little bit haunted. The kind of place you stumble into and don’t really want to leave.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ At the question about taxidermy, Leon perked up a bit more. “Oh! Um–yeah. My mom was–is–a librarian, so I spent a lot of time in libraries. My dad is an entomologist, so he likes bugs, and he did a lot of insect pinning, so I think that kind of got inspired by that,” He moved toward a shelf, gently lifting a little glass dome that held a butterfly with shimmering blue wings. “I found a book on taxidermy and man, it was so over for me. I thought it was… just so cool to preserve something like that.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He set the dome down and looked at Ash again, a little sheepish. “It just kind of… grew from there. I think I’ve always been fascinated by the idea of preserving beauty. Not in a creepy way, I swear,” he added quickly, with a quiet laugh. “More like… I want to give things a second life. Or maybe just keep telling their story a little longer.”

#c: leon #hearthandhallows

ash listens, his full focus on leon as the other speaks. there's something captivating about the way he describes the atmosphere that ash apparently gives off. he can picture it in his head, knowing exactly what the other is talking about. "have you ever thought about writing poetry or something? that description was beautiful, you'd probably do well if you tried your hand at creative writing." the praise is soft but genuine. "i get it if you're not into writing though, it's not for everyone."

"that makes sense. you have a business that's centered around death, right? i think being a little haunting kinda comes with the territory." he moves to admire the dome with butterflies inside, eyes flicking upward at the other as he tells ash about his background. "that's pretty cool, my parents mostly just did run of the mill stuff. mom was a school teacher and dad worked in construction. i guess i got into morbid stuff partially because of my birthday. y'know, halloween. when i got older is when it evolved to stuff like horror and witchcraft. i've actually read a couple books on mortuary studies."

as acquainted with death as ash is, he appreciates that leon wants to make it into something beautiful. his approach takes something mournful and gives it new purpose, which gives ash a warm feeling. "i don't think it's creepy." he states, making purposeful eye contact as he speaks. "what you're doing here is meaningful."

blackcatxmagic

Ever since that day at Theater of the Mind where they became friends, Ash had been on Davis’s mind. His story was just so tragic, and Davis could tell that Ash was a kind person, so the fact that he’d gone through that was incredibly sad. And Davis could understand a bit about how he felt. While he hadn’t lost a significant other, Davis knew what sudden loss of a loved one felt like. It was the most terrible thing he had ever endured, and Davis also knew a thing or two about loneliness. He’d felt lonely ever since that day when he was 13 back in Sri Lanka.

So of course Davis had wanted to go with Ash to the carnival when he’d asked. They were friends now, and making Ash smile had turned out to be something Davis really liked doing. It had surprised him a little, but in a good way, so by the time he saw Ash and bounded across the fairgrounds toward him, he was beaming. “Hey Ash!” Davis exclaimed when he reached his friend, hugging him; Davis was a hugger. When he pulled away, he kept his hands on Ash’s shoulders for a second, all smiles still. “I was so glad you called me! I think this is going to be really fun.” But then Davis’s smile changed to an expression of empathy as he listened to Ash. “I get it,” he said with a nod, hands still on the other man’s shoulders. “I’m happy to do anything with you. All those hard things that you have trouble doing alone, you call me, okay?” That was what friends were for in Davis’s opinion, and it felt like a privilege to do that for someone he cared about. “So what do you want to do first?” Davis asked. “We can ride the Ferris wheel, we can get some snacks, we can go on the carousel, anything you want. The world is our oyster! Or at the least the fairground is. Fun fact, did you know that term comes from the Shakespeare play The Merry Wives of Windsor? I think the saying is more popular than the phrase. So it’s been around since the early 1600s!” And then Davis blushed slightly, saying, “I know a lot of random trivia. Sorry if it’s annoying.”

#c: davis #blackcatxmagic

the hug catches ash by surprise, his body stiffening at the sudden touch. it takes him a second to reciprocate, arms hovering with uncertainty before settling around davis in a hesitant embrace. he isn't used to physical affection anymore, but there's something grounding about it, it makes a little of the tension in his shoulders slip away. he doesn't have any family in cardinal hill; truthfully, he doesn't talk to his family much at all. the months since elias' death had felt particularly isolating, the loneliness sitting on his chest like a constant companion. being here with someone who wants to be with him feels strange, but comforting. it feels good to not have to pretend he's fine.

"hey." he says softly in greeting, voice quiet as if he might break the quiet comfort they've built. davis was quickly becoming someone that ash felt he could rely on, not just for happy moments. he had shown ash what seemed like genuine care and he wanted to be around it more. it felt nice, being around someone who accepted him as he was and didn't expect him to "be okay" to save face. ash felt comfortable enough to not think too much about what he did or said.

he smiles at the other as they give him an infodump on the origin of the phrase, it reminds him of some of his own quirks. "trust me, with all the random horror trivia i know, i could probably write a book. for example, did you know that the name of wednesday addams comes from a nursery rhyme? it's supposed to tell you what your child will be like based on the day of the week they're born on, and for wednesday it goes "wednesday's child is full of woe". i don't know if it's been officially confirmed but the rhyme is widely attributed to be the origin of her name." there's a faint pause before he adds. "seems fitting, huh?"

✿ Closed starter for Ash (@footnotesoftherecentlydeceased) at South Cardinal Showgrounds.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The fair smelled like nostalgia and cavities–fried sugar, popcorn, the faint ozone scent of machinery running too hot under blinking lights. Felix had powdered sugar on his fingers (and probably his nose, but who was checking), a churro in one hand and a plastic cup of lemonade balanced precariously in the other. The cup had a little smiley face drawn on it in Sharpie. He didn’t remember ordering it that way, but he liked it, so he hadn’t questioned it.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He spun around when he caught sight of Ash, his whole face lighting up like the midway games behind him. “There you are!” he called out, already weaving through the crowd like a pinball. “Okay, important question–do you trust me?”‎‎

‎ ‎ ‎ Felix didn’t wait for an answer. He arrived at Ash’s side with the force of a one-person parade, thrusting the churro toward them. “Taste this and tell me it’s not the best thing you’ve eaten in your entire life. Go ahead. Lie to me.” His eyes sparkled, but there was something in them that looked… wired. Not anxious, exactly. Just buzzing. Like there was something just beneath the surface that hadn’t settled yet. But for now? He was all bright smiles and sticky fingers, sharing sugar and chaos like it was sacred.

#c: felix #hearthandhallows

ash was thankful that someone had agreed to go to the carnival with him. it made everything feel that much less lonesome, it felt like the kind of event where you should go with someone. he'd tried to go by himself in the first couple days, but all the crowds of people made him feel like too much of an outsider. he smiles at felix when he finds them, already feeling a little overwhelmed by all the people. the presence of someone he knew felt comforting.

he flinches backwards as the churro is thrust in his face with little warning, blinking at the treat now suddenly mere inches from his nose. but, to please his friend, he tears off a small piece, shoving it in his mouth.

"that is really good, actually," he says with a faint smile, voice softer than the words themselves. "not that i doubted you, but i forgot what churros were like." the cinnamon sugar floods his senses, and for a moment, he’s not here at the fair—he’s in a convenience store with elias, laughing as they argued over which slushie flavor was best. his stomach twists. ash blinks, shakes his head, and tries to pull himself back to the present, to felix, to the warmth of the carnival lights. "i'm glad you dragged me out here." he says, voice more distant than he intended. "i needed it more than i thought."

Closed starter for Ash Wolffe ( @footnotesoftherecentlydeceased ) Location: Cardinal Hill Chapel, April 23rd, 1991

Mac made his way over to the refreshment table as people began to disperse after the meeting. He was an infrequent attendee to the Cardinal Hill Grief Group that met every Tuesday in the church's basement at six o'clock but there was some comfort in knowing the group would always be there whether or not Mac attended next week. Mac wasn't sure if he'd be back there next Tuesday. He always left this meeting feeling a mix of catharsis and detriment and the whole confusing slurry of emotions that came when having to confront grief head on. Even though he'd chosen not to speak up today he'd still been reflecting and was feeling that all too familiar feeling of melancholic relief now that this was over.

The man looked over the already grazed refreshments table seeing if there was anything left that he wanted to snag before he went home. Even though people were talking amongst themselves and socializing as things got put away it was rare for Mac to engage in much conversation with the attendees of the meeting. While they could all relate to grieving the loss of a loved one everyone's experience was vastly different and it wasn't lost on him that most of the people that were there were significantly older than he was and their experience was so far from what he'd gone through before even reaching the age of thirty. He was eyeing one of the only remaining donuts available that hadn't been cut into fourths when he found himself joined at the refreshments table. It was Ash, at least he thought that was the man's name. Truthfully, Mac often tuned out when they were forced to go around the room and introduce themselves but he'd seen him at group a couple of times now and happened to have sat opposite of him in the circle today so Mac had spent quite a bit of time looking at him from across the room. Mac watched as Ash reached for one of the paper cups and set it in front of the coffee carafe. As he began pouring a cup Mac finally spoke up. "I don't know if you're gonna want to drink that," he cautioned. "They're all out of creamer and I heard that stuff's worse than what they serve at the penitentiary," Mac said making a little bit of a joke as he reached for the last untouched Cruller and claimed the donut for himself.

it was odd, going to a grief support group. ash had, for the most part, isolated himself since his boyfriend's death. he had only recently started meeting with a therapist again, who had suggested this. it wasn't a bad experience by any means, he just felt out of his element. suddenly he was surrounded by people who knew his pain, it was somehow comforting and terrifying at the same time. a few people had introduced themselves to him and they seemed nice enough, but he still found himself retreating to a corner by the refreshment table, content to people watch.

after a few moments he steps to the front of the table, where he meets another man. internally, he does his best to go about his business, grabbing a coffee cup and setting it under the spout of the carafe. "i've probably had worse, you wouldn't believe how low your standards can become after drinking mostly gas station coffee." despite the warning, he lifts the cup with shaking hands, scowling as he sips. his face contorts in a sort of flinch, evidence that the other man had been right in his assumption. ash forces himself to swallow, coughing and sets the cup on the table a little quicker than intended. "well...it'll certainly put some hair on your chest, i'll give it that." he comments, a little too quickly, trying to make it sound like a joke and not disgust.

he looks at the person standing next to him, noticing the donut in his hand. "and you've taken the last of my favorite donut. i'm kidding, mostly. you did warn me about the coffee, i'll give you that one. " his tone is light, trying to joke to break the ice. "the sprinkles ones aren't half bad, i'll just have one of those."

#c: mac #wcirdo

blackcatxmagic

Copper was just people watching right now. While some of the time he’d been spending at the fair had been with people like his friends and brother and boyfriend, now was time just for himself. Copper had learned that when tot spent time alone, that was when you really understood who you were. It was like being with your loved ones - while a wonderful thing of course - also cut you off from who you were at your core. That had been Copper’s experience at least; he’d never felt more in touch with the person he really was, his soul, what he was capable of, until he had become a widower. And right now Copper had so many conflicting thoughts about everything that had been happening, so maybe it wasn’t the worst thing to be wandering the fair alone tonight.

So yeah, he was people watching, and that was when Copper saw the man playing the game. Immediately he felt sense a certain…sameness about them, something Copper couldn’t quite articulate or understand fully. So he was drawn to him, approaching as he finished the game. Laughing at his comment, Copper replied, “Sometimes I think these big prizes are just there to make us spend money, like an impossible goal we’ll never attain. It’s a cunning strategy. Morally suspect, sure. But cunning.” Another laugh escaped his throat, and then he introduced himself, “My name is Copper.”

#c: copper #blackcatxmagic

"i think that's how these games are kinda designed to be. it's kinda like a claw machine, y'know? barely anyone wins, but it makes you wanna keep trying until you get something. same gimmick here, the games are hard to win so you keep trying and spending more money." the other person hadn't asked for ash's theory on how carnival games worked, but here they were. ash is self-aware enough to take a pause, glancing at the man for a second. for a moment he just looks at the game ibln front of him, wondering whether he should buy another round. "fuck it." he gives the carnie another $5 to try again at the game.

"how long you been in cardinal, copper?" he asks as the worker hands him another pole for the game. he latches another tab to the magnet and as luck would have it, it's a green this time. "hey, looks like i won a medium prize this time! i think that means i can get the fuzzy frog, the llama, or the snake. which one do you like better?" his face brightens at the bigger prize, happy to finally have one something decent. "my name's ash, by the way. nice to meet you!"

stoopidtuff

༝༝ 🚬 ༝༝

When the other boy played back, it only amused him further. Now they were dancing, and he was more than happy to lead. "It might, actually," he dramatized. Nibs might not have even been capable of it, really. For how boring life already was, these little moments were what he lived for. A day didn't have the same spice to it without a victim to his poking. His full name made his skin crawl, but he refused to show Ash that he'd tickled a nerve. A clenched jaw was the only sign of displeasure while the boy forced a toothy smile. "Who pissed in your cereal?" While it might've very well been Nibs himself, that didn't seem to be the case this time; something else must've been itching at his favorite customer. "Talk to Dr. Nibs."