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remy-arzt‌:

Remy looked away, feeling an unfamiliar surge of annoyance moving inside him. He wasn’t used to these kinds of feelings, at least not when they were directed at anyone other than himself, and lately Vidal. He couldn’t look Orien in the eye for a moment, mostly it was a sort of frustration. The words hit him, knowing that the political side of it was accurate and realizing his overall calm and calculating demeanour could make it look like he did feel superior. Did he? He didn’t think so, more like he felt detached and wanted it to stay that way when it came to outbursts and problems, but he’d always looked for a way in with people. Nothing too deep or close for comfort, but the sort of moderate warmth that came from knowing the basics about the other and being able to adapt and present yourself in the best light for them. “I do not… that was not my intention, I’m sorry it read that way.” He muttered, his mouth very slightly pursed. He shook his head. He could agree with him, up to a point. The sort of cold and unfeeling haze over everyone was disturbing, to say the least. But he also understood they’d grown to know that he’d secrets, this life, was all they might ever get and the best thing to do is learn to live with it. “What is it you think we should be doing? I’m sorry, I understand letting feelings of shock, sadness, anger et all might be helpful. But do you really think of all of us let it all out all of the time, with no intention to keep control over it, it would help?” He grasped his hands in front of him. “Everyone deals in their own way. I just don’t think, with everything that’s on our minds right now, having everyone let go would be the best approach.”

"What do I think you should be doing?” He asks, the question ludicrous to him. All the time it seems the people in this house try to paint him as the villain that asks too much, that is trying to force them to conform to normal emotional patterns. Is it so much to ask to expect one of nine to at least shed a tear at the thought their Father is dead and bludgeoned by one amongst them? Is it wrong to want to know they’re not just robots going through the motions and that there’s some pain inside of them? “I don’t want you to do anything, Remy. I don’t want any of this, I didn’t want to be here and to put all my energy into something and get nothing back but dirty secrets that nobody wants to believe me about,” he tells the other man, exasperation clear on his features. Childish as it may be, he’s never been exposed to being at such a loss as to what to do. In his world A goes to B and B goes to C and things go the way they are meant to between his illusions and stories. Here, A seems to go to N and here they are at Z. Nothing makes any logical or natural sense. “All I want is the truth, but that,” he lets out a crooked laugh, a look of complete frustration in his eyes but a smile on his face, “Is the impossible around here.”

#c: remy

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#q #mom

remy-arzt‌:

Remy stared at Orien, quietly waiting as he paced. He had a general idea of how he’d been feeling, the desparte, drowning sensation. The intense churn of horror and realisation that felt like a punch to the stomach. He’d been through it more than once, with different amounts of intensity, in this last year. He bit his lip for a moment, forcing himself to stay as logical and calm as possible as a part of his brain, the one he always tried to quiet down, urged him to let go and go crazy for a moment. He neutralised it and stared at Orien with his poker face, his voice a slightly off monotone. “Yes, so you can imagine how that makes us feel.” He replied. “This house was built on little lies and huge secrets and now that the ones that held it together can no longer do so they’re starting to pour out.” He commented, his voice tinged with melancholy. “I understand how it looks and I understand how it Can feel like… but I’d be willing to say the more we find out, the better. So one day there are not surprises left to come out and turn our lived upside down.”

He stood there and listened to the man speak and he almost couldn’t believe the false sense of calm and prosperity that he instilled. He couldn’t understand how he could be so calm and measured after finding out something so mind-blowing. Orien’s world felt like it was imploding but the Athanas children and Remy seemed to just stand there unaffected, as if all this tragedy and all these secrets didn’t hurt them, as if one big gush of wind might finally be what bowled them over. They seemed emotionally shut down and Orien wasn’t. Orien couldn’t be. Emotion leaked from every inch of him like blood from an open wound, he could not physically stop it. “Remy, this isn’t politics, you can’t spend your whole life narrating in this God like way as if you’re not really here living it,” Orien told the other man, although his rage had descended now, there were few signs of his alarm and anger left besides the markings of his face which showed he was still disbelieving, still filled with so many doubts. “Everyone around here is so numb, and it’s not right. It’s not acceptable, it’s messed up. All these secrets and nobody reacts.”

#c: remy

cassia-athanas‌:

Cassia was done.

They were done with the world, they were done with their paintings, they were done trying to figure out who the murderer was - because out of everyone they were pretty confident that it wasn’t Emilio. And they were done trying to process being in the room when someone was almost killed.

Being back in their family home felt familiar which was comforting in a strange way. And in their room they just took all of the blankets off of their bed and turned themself into a blanket burrito. One that still was holding on to their can of mace just in case it was necessary. It wasn’t until they were comfortable that they realized that they had left their bedroom door open. Or that someone was standing in the doorway. And staring up at them, Cassia just waited for them to say something…or maybe they’d hopefully leave.

He wasn’t standing in the doorway to talk to them or target them, the door had merely been open as he wandered aimlessly through the halls searching for some great flabbergasting sign that showed him the truth. He was searching for some meaning behind all of the confusion and suffering that seemed to be happening in the world around them. Had it always been that way? Had he always been blind? He felt like a child opening his eyes to reality for the first time and it was not a pleasant feeling, it cast shadows over the bright tales he had once spun and left him feeling underwhelmed, “I’ve never felt so lost,” he told nobody in particular, not even looking at them. They were there but they were part of the furniture. He wasn’t really talking to Cassia.

A moment pass of more silence and he still did not redirect his eyes, even his spit felt thick and hard to swallow in his mouth. As hard to swallow as all the facts he was now discovering. “Or maybe I’m not lost anymore,” he thought out loud, “Maybe I’m finally finding out that I was lost all along and this is what I’m meant to find.”

#c: cassia

irma-athanas‌:

The more days passed, the more certain Irma grew that she had followed Alice’s footsteps and passed through the looking glass into Wonderland. Dad dead, December presumably dead, Emilio arrested. But yet, when someone found December’s phone they didn’t go to the police with that information, but to her. Which meant that either he wasn’t actually dead….or someone wanted something covered up. Or even that whoever found the phone didn’t know that it was evidence in a possible murder. The third explanation felt too innocent for the twisted mirror world Irma was living in and she quickly dismissed it. “Curioser and curioser. Begin at the beginning, and go on till you come to the end. Then stop,” she muttered under her breath as she stared at the text exchange once again.

Things were not getting better but they weren’t getting worse. Although what was worse? Maybe a decapitated head hanging on the front door would be enough for this to seem like it was getting worse but Orien was growing far too familiar with suffering, blood and grief. Never in his life had he thought anyone that shared the same name as him would be involved in so much trauma but now his own Mother was in the middle of the greatest mystery he’d never wanted to be involved in. “Stop?” He asked the girl, knowing her from pictures only. They had not met somehow. Maybe there was good reason for that, he laid his hand flat down with the same exasperated expression that he’d been wearing for days now, “Where does this end? At what point do you admit that nobody has a clue what’s going on?”

#YOU GET A REPLY QUICKLY DUE TO MY EXCITEMENT OVER THIS NEW GIF #look at him go #new n shiny #and very serious #c: irma

remy-arzt‌:

Remy was taken aback by all of this, and that was putting it lightly. Of all the terrible surprises, all the baffling twist and worrisome turns, this was certainly not something he could’ve ever even considered. His eyes kept going back to the iPad, to the picture there, his hands hardening into fists. He took in a big breath, inhaling as much air as he could to see if that would help him feel better, help him stop feeling like once again he was suffocating under the weight of who he was and the role he played in this house and all the things that came with it. “I understand.” He muttered, a little hoarsely. But how? How could that be? Why? As if the woman’s sudden disappearance wasn’t baffling enough. As if the mystery that had always discretely shrowded her and her past and her story weren’t enough. Now this had to come out. “Excuse me?” The step he took back was instinctive, his eyes narrowing to mirror Orien’s. “Why would I keep something like that to myself?” He inquiered. He was offended someone would acouse him of something like that but he was not going to admit that now. “I’m starting to believe I don’t know who anyone in this house is, actually.” He crossed his arms, taking another deep breath and evening his look and his tone. “So no, I did not. This is as much a shock to me as it is to you.”

“Well that makes two of us!” Orien shot back, he was protecting himself above all else but it wasn’t doing much good. It seemed that every time he got closer to fulfilling his obligations and leaving that there was some tentative strand holding him here that he couldn’t break. He was sick of it. Sick of all the arguments and the confusing moments, sick of all the time that he was wasting amongst a house of people that couldn’t be honest with him about absolutely anything. He tried to calm himself, locking the screen and circling away with his hands on his head, trying to rationalise everything that happened. He turns to Remy again, “I’m sorry but you must realise that absolutely nothing happening here makes ANY sense, you were here so long and yet you don’t seem to know anything about it!”

#c: remy

lucythelight

It comes at Night...

orienexpress-blog

lucythelight‌:

She found her emergency bag, plucking out the oversized lantern, and two flashlights. She sat in her seat waiting for Orien, still hoping that he received her text. She just needed a moment, a moment of familiarity. A mess of brown hair ducked into a car, with them the familiar scent of her brother. He was so much like their father, in ways he didn’t even realize, like the way he walked or cared deeply and even his scent.

“Hey, Ori,” she let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she had been holding. His tone was so somber, maybe he’s worried or stressed…there is a lot going on, she thought to herself. A blackout wasn’t something that was out of the norm to either of them, growing up on a farm…things happened. Especially in their youth, before their father built a new house from scratch and tore down the old one, as if the house itself brought him too many memories…memories too painful to deal with.

His words rung in her head, bouncing around and around. She was alive…to be honest, that wasn’t something that shocked her. Luci didn’t think the woman actually died. Their father told them she walked out, and that’s exactly what she did. Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel, her knuckles whitening. And then, she let out a laugh.

“I’m sorry Ori, I’m not laughing at you. It’s just…it’s just I always knew she was alive. Dad said she walked out, and apparently right into the arms of his estranged brother to raise a dozen other kids, rather than the two she brought into the world…the irony of the situation,” she laughed again. “I don’t know, I always imagined that she was out somewhere in the world like Greece or Brazil or even Paris living her life the way she wanted without any strings attached. You know, every time that I’ve competed I had always imagined her in the stands cheering for me or maybe even watching me from her home…but no this woman was within driving distance,” she let out a sigh.

Luciana sunk deeper into her seat, a single tear escaped her; she looked over at her brother, “oh my God, I’m horrible. Here I am just spewing like a fire hydrant, how do you feel? I mean you knew her more than I did. How are you?” she finally asked.

He sat in that silence and waited for the inevitable, heart crushing moment that his sister realised the depth of their abandonment but that terrible moment never arrived. He let out a breath as he watched his sister laugh about the truth that he had burdened her with and at that moment, in the darkness of that old vehicle that they had always known, he wondered if he saw her light begin to flicker too.

He didn’t think it was very funny, or very ironic, but at least he was glad that his sister didn’t feel the same betrayal that he did in every inch of his chilly bones. He had imagined his Mother in a million places to make himself feel better but he had always felt that maybe the truth was worse, that maybe she was at the bottom of a ditch or somewhere out there in a shallow unmarked grave. When she had been his Mother she had been so radiant and full of light, so full of love but she had never once seemed sad, never an inch of sadness seemed to meet with her, even when there were things to be quite unhappy about. “You’re not horrible,” he told her truthfully, he knew she was only reacting to what she had now found out, “You’ve never been horrible.”

He let the silence surround him, the heat of the night creeping through old metal and glass but not touching them. Eventually he offered her a reassuring look, deep brown eyes full of care and consideration and maybe it was more true than anything that Orien loved his sister because she was all he had left to protect. “I don’t know how I am, but I know I’ll be fine,” he told her, a reassurance in itself. “I always knew that she left, but I thought she didn’t want to be a Mother anymore, that she was tired of the job and the responsibilities, that it was too much,” he tells her with a shake of the head, trying so hard to understand. He bites his lip, “But none of my stories were the truth. Reality strikes and it turns out that she just didn’t want to be our Mother, that she wanted to be theirs. She wanted to raise all them children and now she’s gone again.”

#paras #para: it comes at night #c: luciana #plot: the last supper

#ooc

lucythelight

It comes at Night...

orienexpress-blog

lucythelight‌:

@orienexpress

Luciana sucked her teeth in frustration, naturally, her phone would die in the middle of a conversation and of course during a blackout in a strange place. Sweat pooled at the nape of her neck, not because of the darkness or the pain from bumping into hard furniture. There was something rotten in the air, something wasn’t right. Hopefully, Orien received the message before her phone died.

She let out a slight sigh, attempting to find her way towards the front door. She remembered the mini-flashlight on her keys, although it was terribly dim it was better than nothing. Luciana unlocked her car, the bright flashinglights provided her with a route outside.

She turned on her car to give her brother an easier way to find her, she climbed in and dug aroung for the flashlights.

The light of the car guided him towards his sister and the old vehicle that he was so familiar with. It shouldn’t of surprised him so much that she was well prepared because they had been brought up to be so. They always thought rationally, practically, their Father had been the most practical man that Orien had ever met -- at times it got in the way of all the stories that he liked to tell himself to make things a little better.

“Luciana,” he dipped his head in through the rolled down window before he moved around to open it and step inside. Sliding into the passenger seat he flashed her a smile, maybe in the dark it looked more real than it felt on his face. He didn’t want to tell her the truth but he had to. It hung heavy on his shoulders. It was a responsibility. “Our Mom, she’s alive. She was there, at that house,” he tells her, knowing that no matter how he says it, it will not make the thought any better. He turns to face her, although it is dark, lights dance outside, “She left us and I guess, she became their Mother instead. She was their Mom. The one who’s missing.”

#c: luciana #para: it comes at night

So, I was just bringing some flashlights into the hotel with my sister. I didn't see anything but I heard it... I've never heard a real gun shot before... In real life. This is insane. Do you think it has something to do with the murder? Sorry, I know I can't ask that.

The Night Of The Shooting

#dhtask #plot: the last supper

sleepin

#q #mom

text @ all

Luci: :)

Luci: Serious? Anytime you need, do you want to come with me to get the lights out of my car?

Luci: Ughh my phone is about to die, 2%

Orien: I'll meet you there then. See u soon

#texts #c: luciana #if you start a thread then i'll reply in the AM!

why do you think your mother left you and your family?

“I don’t know but as much as I wish there was, there’s no good reason that could be given to explain it. She chose to do it and didn’t seem to have any regrets.”

#mom #a #Anonymous

text @ all

Adina: I've got a flashlight.

Orien: Probably the safer option. Some people can't be trusted with matches

#c: adina #texts

text @ all

Constantin: Is there ever not awkward timing for the power to be cut? I think that's the whole point of a power outage.

Orien: Well, if it was midday, we might not notice so much. A power outage tomorrow would of been much more opportunistic, we wouldn't of been here! :P

#texts #c: constantin

text @ all

Luci: LOL!!!!

Luci: I always keep stuff in the truck, I've watched way too many Doomsday Preppers episodes not to.

Luci: I have a little emergency bag in there too

Orien: Wow

Orien: I need to talk to you about some pretty serious stuff. Although maybe it'd be better when the power or light of day returns.

#c: luciana #texts

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