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@idletongue
✶ IDLETONGUE : a private and dependent single-muse blog for @itshoco, featuring the souls of bellamy hsu - bennett ( returned ) & allegra aguilar ( entourage ). mature themes will be present. please do not interact if you're not part of the group.
click for more muse information — carrd.
draft count + owed starters : 005.
open starter for all marrow inhabitants … !
day whatever of living in some sort of upside down world: the dead still walk in marrow. diya’s not sure how the others feel – they aren’t really allowed to talk about it. any talk, however obscured, gets hushed. no one is quite sure when, or if, this might break. or end. or go horribly, horribly wrong.
so anyway, diya’s just finished serving pancakes to someone who was dead just a few months ago, so she supposes that is just what life will be like for the time being. she takes a seat at a table, sighing, and presses her palms to her eyes. maybe if she presses hard enough, when she can erase the memories – enjoy her siblings’ presence without remembering their absence. it doesn’t work. the bell on the door ring and she sighs. “ sorry, i’ll be with you in one moment. ”
at this point, bear paw diner became a regular lurking space, something more fulfilling than ambling around sanctuary's grounds — mere weeks in and they already felt something akin to cabin fever. surely, this was far from the longest runtime of a single destination, having made roots in plenty of other towns before, but to allegra, it's felt the most constrained — perhaps that's what happens when you enter a small town with secrets to bear, whispers instead of a fanfare welcome.
" are you okay, dear ? " an uncharacteristic byname, considering that visually, the two could be mistaken as the same age, but it was something genuine regardless. they slip in across from her, unabashedly occupying a spot directly across, hardly a desire to receive any form of service — diya was her focus. " surely you're in need of a break, no ? is anyone able to help you out ? i can put on an apron, if need be ! perhaps serving at a place such as this is no different to a dinner party. "
♱ — olive branch park @ 8am ♱ — closed for allegra aguilar @idletongue
♱ effie is getting impatient. it's been a month now, and as much as they'd love to avoid and supress the feeling whenever it creeps up, they're getting hungry, and it's making effie more irritable than usual ( which is to say, extremely. ) “ i feel like i'm choking on the air in this fucking town, ” she bemoans, the breeze sweeping through her hair feeling more like a slice of the knife. “ do you ever wonder, why marrow? why this stupid, nothing place over literally anywhere else? ”
she's sure the cheeriness doesn't help, peering up at a clearly disgruntled effie with a grin they hope isn't perceived as condescension — it's clear that stillness is no longer a concern, tracking every movement with a surveying gaze, but allegra could hardly blame her. had it not been years of conditioning, opting for the unsatisfying crimson of small game, they, too, would be just as prickly. " i hardly know what you mean, ef. they're ... cute ! like, that computer game ! sims ! " a wrinkle of the nose, chipper in tone. " i told you i can get you a raccoon or something to ease the hurt — not the best in taste, i fear, especially if their diet consists of bear paw leftovers, but, perhaps it may help your ... ailments. "
micaela understood, but in a way that made it impossible to relate—the town had always felt ill-fitting to them, like trying to fit into clothes they'd grown out of. it had mattered a lot when she was a kid, but there had never been a solution to it. eventually, they would either have to be driven insane by it or just let it go. it was hard to shake their role in their family, but it ultimately wasn't hard to stop caring about figuring out her role in town.
"it means fucking nothing," they said, answer serious but not meant offensively, her tone light. "for real, bellamy. it actually means fucking nothing. you don't have to give a fuck at all. don't make up shit to hurt your own feelings with."
it was uncharacteristic of them to be so defeatist, regardless of whether or not that was the angle mica approached this with now. in truth, they didn't know much about the other — two passing ships for as long as their brain retains her face, even in such a congested neighborhood. and yet, here they were, bellamy seeking the warmth of confidence, as if they were nothing short of close friends. " i don't understand how you do it. " they admitted, eyes flickering down to their lap, crossed legs still cold under the denim that hugged them. " not care, i mean. it seems liberating, at times ... but you don't get lonely ? "
Vladimir Nabokov, tr. by Olga Voronina & Brian Boyd, from Letters to Véra
― Pablo Neruda, One Hundred Love Sonnets
[text ID: I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, / in secret, between the shadow and the soul.]
the song of achilles, madeline miller / strangers - the kinks / margaret atwood, from power politics: poems / mary oliver, from west wind
— Frank Bidart, from “Half-light: Collected Poems 1965-2016; ‘Elegy’", published c. 2017.
The Iron Claw (2023) — dir. sean durkin
luck had very little to do with their current... predicament. resurrected dead, however, had everything to do with it. still, she couldn't complain. she preferred smaller town. clarissa may have been an extrovert, but even her social battery had a limit. smirking at the vampire's greeting, the fellow immortal leaned against the cold stone of the wall. " have you met people, my dear? there's hardly any light in them to begin with. " she snickered, though her opinion of humankind ( which does not, contrary to what some may think, exclude the vampires from it ) remains so terribly low.
phantoms, specters...
" ah, you mean vampires and the nightly ilk? indeed, how ghoulish to think they may be in our midst. " small things entertained her these days - like irony and sarcasm. " it's charming, but most of them are. a little too... cramped in my opinion. "
" oh, hush, you ! " a playful swat in the other's direction — albeit light, steeped in nothing but humor, as if the two were mere schoolchildren, giggling over some shared espionage. " vampires — eugh — at times, i hate that term. it's so visceral ... you know ? messy, too, in my head. " the hypocrisy wasn't lost on them, words spewing around messes all the while allegra sported a few stray pieces of brush and smudged dirt along her legs — the usual side-effect of forest exploration, really. even so, they'd assert that the others were far more dignified, all oozing a sense of propriety she could never seem to grasp, even after all these years of tagging along. " cramped ? how so ? in temperament, you mean ? " her head cocked, canting a bit, brows raised to prompt clarissa to continue on with this line of thought. " perhaps i would be too, had i grown up in a town so tightly wound as this. "
starter 4 @idletongue ( for dealer's choice :p )
where : ray's, 8pm. the doors should be closed and everything should be shut off, but someone's working himself to the bone. praise be to overtime pay !
store's so empty you could hear a pin drop. it's impossible to sneak up on nikolai : he works in silence, swears he can hear every step whoever's walked in takes. “ we're closed. ” he grunts without turning back. this car's engine has been giving him shit for the past two days, and here he is, an hour past closing and still nowhere close to getting it ready to run again. there's a sharp intake of breath, the only clue to how frustrated he is ( unfortunately, he always looks some degree of miserable, so his expression can't be used to decipher such a thing ). finally looks to see whoever's snuck their way in hasn't left. “ if you're lookin' to rob, you'd have better luck hitting up the boss's house instead of the store. if you're lookin' to get something fixed after hours, i charge extra and don't tell the boss about it, so wait 'til morning for ethical mechanic practices. ”
under the safety of nightfall, allegra considered herself out for an early morning walk — something to awaken the system and activate the senses via routine people watching and therefore, snooping. it's what explained their presence now, padding around ray's like a public park, rather than a place of business. she was accustomed to breaking and entering, usually slipping through a cracked window, sometimes a vent if the curiosity verged upon desperation. tonight ? an easy waltz. they wouldn't have barged in if it wasn't for a metallic sheen catching a streetlamp just right — after all, what was there to see in an auto shop ? " just lookin'. " they all but chirped, fingers skimming across the worn wood of a work bench. " the front door ... it says your hours of operation are only until five, no ? or was it six ? either way, you don't exactly look like you're enjoying yourself. the boss seems like he's running you dry. "
open to. @autohalo's aspen camire ! setting. prismatic spiritual shop, late afternoon.
bellamy hardly considered themselves the religious type. sunday school was nothing but a formality, something to do to get out of the house and leave their mother with an empty nest, one day a week — marrow's free substitute for sunday morning babysitting. even so, they still stumbled into prismatic, all-willing, perhaps buying into the hokey nature of new age metaphysics in search of a crystalline bandage that may, somehow, at least soothe the nerves. at worst ? a pretty rock to stare at. aspen's attendance wasn't expected, either, not like they knew her more than the occasional run in, but something pulled them towards the other, more than usual — an uncharacteristic fondness usually reserved for long-time friends, those who've known them enough for the comfort to take root. " how's your sleuthing going ? " they prodded, playfulness marking bellamy's tone, idly picking up and examining every stone that caught their attention. " do these help with that ? the, uh ... rocks. "
open to. all marrow residents — currently accepting replies. setting. marrow hunting lodge, late night.
" you shouldn't be wandering alone. " the dramatics of their tone were just that — dramatics, all in jest. it was a good thing she could run - perhaps the wrong recipient would take it to the grave, especially those unkind eyes who can't seem to tear away as they near marrow's churchyard. " perhaps there are things in these halls that are not creatures of the light ! ooooooooh. phantoms, specters — i've heard tales of them all. " the irony wasn't lost on her. but for what it was worth, allegra considered themselves harmless — scheming, perhaps, at best, but never a palpable threat. " marrow ... a beautiful town, no ? how have we found ourselves so lucky ? "
open to. @dethtrap's helena ridley ! setting. bear paw diner, early evening.
" you ! " an unseemly exclamation, with matters made worse by a finger directly pointed at the other — perhaps they were lucky to inhabit bear paw during their slower hours. allegra would hate to embarrass helena. at least, more than she already has. they promptly slid into the booth, worn vinyl squeaking with every shifting movement, all the while a grin remained plastered upon her features. " you're famous around here, no ? ridley, is it ? ridley, ridley, ridley — it's all the people talk about ! town gossips ... the worst, but pay no mind to them — bored, is what they are, i'm sure of it. " truth be told, allegra was merely in the same state, sharing the boredom post-potluck, opting to people watch and test how much human food their stomach could handle, or tongue could still taste — being turned before the dawn of the mikshake has been such a pain, truly. " would you like me to smite them all for you ? "
ALEXA BARAJAS as MARI IBARRA Yellowjackets 3.04: 12 Angry Girls and 1 Drunk Travis
ALEXA BARAJAS as MARI IBARRA Yellowjackets 3.01 | It Girl
open to. @shaketothesin's mica martin ! setting. olive branch park, dawn.
" you know, " voice verging upon vulnerability — the type of openness one would only experience in a near-death situation, pleading to whatever higher forces whose gazes cast upon them now. it's all their voice seems to be, these days - shaking, unsure, as if a cog slipped but the machine still ran. " my folks were always scared of marrow, the ones i grew up with ... said this town was cursed, full of people who ain't fittin' anywhere else — 's what brought them here, they said. ——— what does that mean for me, now, if it feels like i'm not even fittin' here ? what's left ? "
