*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You ruined everything good Always said you were misunderstood Made all my moments your own Just fucking leave me alone

[sera-ton-m]

ABOUT SERAFINA —

Name: Serafina 'Sera' Antonio - Montgomery Age / D.O.B. : 46 years old / August 23rd, 1975 Gender, Pronouns & Sexuality: cisfemale, she/her, bisexual Hometown: Morgantown, WV (USA) Affiliation: Cortázar Cartel Job position: Funeral Director | Accidental Member of the Cortázar Cartel Education: High School Graduate — nothing further Relationship status: Widowed Children: One child — aged ~ 30 years old. Positive traits: Maternal; Eqloquent; Loyal; Witty; Compassionate Negative traits: Acquisitive; Impulsive; Self-Righteous; Mistrusting; Stubborn

— BIOGRAPHY

tw: teenage pregnancy, emotional & physical abuse, and death.

- Born to a somewhat well-off family— her father was always travelling for work, leaving her mother alone with their newborn. Her mother ended up entering Sera into pageats as an infant, all it took was one gold medal for the woman to continue entering her daughter into any and all pageants. (Serafina became a puppet for her mother to live her dreams through). She ended up being a little too good at the pageant work— accumulating a grabbag of theatrical talents, knowing how to woo a handful of regular judges.

- Right around this time (age 15ish) she met a boy named Henry, but her mother refused to let a boy stand in the way of her... daughter's dreams. As soon as she noticed the distractions (dropping spinning plates, missing steps in choreographed routines, being unbothered when missing notes during vocal practice, the usual), she banished the boy from her daughter's life.

- Banish smanish. Sera continued sneaking around with Henry— midnight car rides, sneaking around backstage at the theatre during pageants and productions. Everything was working well, just until it wasn't.

- Two weeks before her 17th birthday, Serafina realized something wasn't right. And she was correct— the butterflies and nausea she was feeling about an upcoming Broadway audition weren't due to nervousness. Or, maybe they were. But, they were mostly due to the fact that she was pregnant.

- Sera and Henry hid the pregnancy long enough to drain her life's worth of pageant money to a new bank account, while Henry had slowly stolen money from his family's bakery. The two curated a plan to escape their broken homes, and once they reached their goal funds they ran away to a small town near New York just around the time that Sera would've been auditioning on Broadway.

- Being newly 18, Henry found odd jobs around the town, eventually landing himself a gig at the local funeral home. He attended school in the mornings, worked in the evenings. Sera stayed home with the baby until she turned 18, then found a job at a local club to work nights— putting her pageant talents to good use. Maybe her mother would be proud.

- Henry ended up interested in all things mortuary science, switched his studies around, and stayed with the home after college. He'd built such a strong bond with the head Mortician, who happened to be a single, older man, and upon his sudden passing, Henry found that the home had been given to him. Now running the home, Sera was able to stay home full time with their child. They held a small wedding right around this time, to celebrate all of the good things coming their way.

- Once Henry had the means, they moved and opened a new funeral home in a more populated part of the city. At this time, their child began to act out in school. Sera, having no experience in the field of parenting outside of pageant-coaching, tended to coddle the child (in Henry's eyes). There was always an excuse for their behavior, always something that dismissed the issues at hand, and Henry's more authoritative personality towards their child violently clashed with Sera's. This was where the fault in their marriage began. Henry became an unrecognizable monster when he was upset with Sera and their child— which, created his ideal family dynamic.

- Henry began taking business trips, allegedly teaching morticians around the country and looking to monopoloize on his... business. Sera never questioned a thing, only happy to have Henry out of the home for longer periods of time seemed to result in an eerily peaceful air in the home, only until something set him off. It was just enough for them all to survive— Sera celebrated the day that their, now adult, child had moved from the home. Their safety from the wrath of Henry was guarunteed as they navigated adulthod. On the outside, they were a picture-perfect family, but only mere threads held the family together.

- Years later, on their way home from a dinner party, Henry posed the idea of a divorce to Sera. Upon sheer disbelief that the man she'd grown up with, lived her entire life beside, was so willing to quit their marriage— and if anyone was going to request a divorce, it was going to be Serfina. She argued, but Henry was too far gone, already having acuired the papers. Refusing to believe that her life was officially crumbling, and now on paper, Sera grabbed the steering wheel for her husband to pull over, and ultimately he won the tug-of-war, sending the car barrelling into oncoming traffic— silencing Henry's side of the argument... eternally.

- Now widowed (is it still widowed if you were divorcing soon, but nobody knew?), Sera was in charge of the funeral home and its staff. In no time at all, secrets revealed themselves. Pandora's Box had been opened. Various affairs throughout their marriage, working with the Cortázar Cartel on concealing shipments, covering up gang-related deaths— everything that Henry had ever told her was suddenly a lie. The funeral home staff, unphased by another death, had no intentions of halting their work. Sera knew that she either had to work with them, or she'd be joining Henry in the afterlife. She was thrown headfist into an entirely foreign world, learning the ropes of the other life her husband lived.

— WANTED CONNECTIONS / PLOTS

TBD

[goodquoteco]

We are very good lawyers for our own mistakes, and very good judges for the mistakes of others.

Paulo Coelho  (via foxrph)

[sera-ton-m]

gideonhayes​

This is going to be one of those learning opportunities for Sera, and Gideon knows it. Takes time for a person to adapt, get into a new goddamn groove, find their footing and make their goddamn mark. She’s been doing goddamn fantastic, for the record. Though he’s rarely gotten to go to the home for more than a pickup to re-up his stash or run an errand to another of his own branch, Sera is a goddamn pro at hiding challenges. “You look beautiful.” The Governor has just made his big goddamn speech, and the night went from off to a goddamn rat race. “That’s a great idea, sweetheart.” And then, he mutters thereafter, “You’re gonna need it.” Without much thought at all, he’s got a hand at the small of her back. “You’ve been doing real goddamn great, Ser. Everything has been just goddamn perfect. You’re a natural.” There’s a but in the wind. They both know it. “Stick with me, kid. There’s some goddamn shit brewin’ and you’re about to learn a whole new aspect of your job.” With his free hand, he vaguely gestures around. “Most of the people here, our bosses don’t goddamn like, and I’m willing t'bet everyone wants the same goddamn thing right now.”

—

The smile brought a smile to her face, that lingered longer than she was consciously aware of. Following his lead, her shoulders lifted in an exhale. Mouth falls open to argue that things were, in fact, probably not as perfect as he was perpetuating, though it closed as Gideon spoke once more. A hint of nervousness. That was just about it for feelings. There was a certain threshold of numbness that Sera had acquired over Henry’s death and the mess of events that followed. Nothing quite surprised her anymore — she was always on her toes, always ready for the unexpected. 

“It’s all metaphorical,” she quipped, shrugging, “easy to run a shady business when you’re running other... secretive and shady endeavors in other aspects of life. Just new terminology and, um, a little more violent than what I’m used to.” Also less kiss-kiss-fall-in-love-secretly-er than her previous secrets. There was, perhaps, just a hint of concern in her gaze, which was flashed to Gideon a few moments after she stopped speaking. “Like what?” The blissful ignorance she grips onto daily now hanging by a thread. At least unexpected things were just that, unexpected. Something about knowing of bad things before they happen wasn’t as appealing.

[sera-ton-m]

location: Fundraiser Gala - Gotham Hall

closed to: @gideonhayes​

Sera had been aimlessly wandering the hall, making nice and partaking in the most painful small talk, taking extremely frequent glances at her wristwatch.

Thirty minutes. She had been in the building for thirty minutes, which felt more like thirty hours by that point. Drawing in a deep breath, she set out to find some sort of beverage to help time pass a little faster — nearly body-checking someone as she turned to begin said journey.

And it was like she was a damn magnet. Muscle memory, in all reality. It had to be. Her mind and body must’ve gone into autopilot and led her to Gideon’s side. Just like it must’ve the last time they saw one another. Though, it was nicer to see him in a clearer state of mind. Sera wasn’t freshly-widowed, dealing with relentless beyond-the-grave fucking-over from Henry, and seemed to have even just the slightest grasp of what was going on with her newfound career. 

Eyes slowly scanned his appearance, to which she flashed a sweet smile. “You look nice,” she offered the compliment with a grain of salt, knowing that Gideon more than likely hadn’t put more than half of a thought into his look. “I wish you would’ve mentioned the lack of free time when running a sketchy funeral home,” she shrugged, “leaves no time for dinner outings, especially the just-ugly-cried-and-just-shouted-at-someone kind, which are pretty necessary.” Pausing, she glanced at Gideon’s hands to see if he’d secured any sort of drink yet, and how low said drink may have been getting. “Care to take the voyage to the bar with me? I promise I’ll be nicer tonight.”

[sera-ton-m]

serafina montgomery giving her best attempt to not leave the fundraiser gala 5 minutes after walking in 

[sera-ton-m]

aaron-keaton​

“Thank you,” he breathed through his nose as he smiled. He had never been too good with aesthetic stuff and the compliment amused him.

But his attention was drawn to what she said next. A dead husband full of surprises? Aaron could have guessed it to be debts, or extra marital children, but this time decided it best for him to let her talk. “Absolutely, please come in,” he invited, getting boxes out of the way and picking up the one on the chair reserved for clients.

“Would you like a cup of tea perhaps? Or coffee?” He offered, picking up the cold mug on his desk and disappearing in the small kitchen beside his office.

-

“Um, sure,” Sera nodded, “coffee’s fine, thank you.” There was a polite smile on her face, which faltered slightly as she lifted the stack of file folders and papers in her hands. “It’s not much, but it’s what I’ve got on him that I’ve not read through as much. So far the best I’ve uncovered are some extra... erm, payments to the funeral home workers. Like, more than paychecks,” for Cartel work, of course, though that side was well-hidden and already uncovered enough. “And, um, lot’s of affiliations with some lady friends,” she deadpanned, drawing in a long breath. “I suppose I just wanted some advice on different places to look, just to make sure I’m not continuing any debts?”

[sera-ton-m]

gideonhayes​

“Aw, Ser, c'mon Sunshine.” She has that look in her eye that he’s seen too many times. Watery, sad, like a woman on the brink. Couple that with a quiver of the lip, and Gideon is putty — or would be, if the floodgates hadn’t completely goddamn opened. He’s already working on guiding her somewhere just a little bit more private. No one here needs to see his goddamn Bank Teller in this kind of state. “You did what you thought you had to do,” the man is goddamn cooing; should’ve come as a saint. “You don’t got to feel that way. Yeah, it’s a surprise but he was a goddamn menace to society. We should be throwing a goddamn party.” Still cooing, for the record. A party, in his mind, is more akin to Gideon taking her out for a picnic outside of a significant, historical venue. “Alright, alright.” Tucked away from society, as much as they goddamn can be, Gideon opening his arms wide with every intent to envelope a single, rightfully hysterical woman. “I’m sure he’s very happy down there.” Is that really a consolation, though? He lets it go. Time to settle on the rest. She doesn’t want to be alone, and what time better than the present? No one said he was emotionally intelligent — or intelligent, period. “…Well, maybe we could get dinner sometime?”

—

Sera wanted to be mad. She wanted so badly to hold onto the anger and frustration and every single negative emotion she had felt after Henry died. But there was no way in hell she was going to be able to hold onto that anymore. Not when Gideon, one of her main and most consistent sources of happiness and comfort throughout her entire adult life, was standing literal inches away. It’s like she’d been drowning since Henry died, and there were plenty of people standing around throwing life preservers and offering their hands, but she’d just rather sink deeper. And now here Gideon was, willing to pull her up for a few minutes, and she’d be an absolute idiot to keep herself below the surface.

Sera practically entered autopilot, melting into his open arms. “I hope he’s miserable,” she started, the words coming out as soft mumbles. “He probably fits right in... like, best friends with Satan fits in. Or maybe he’s Satan’s understudy.” Pulling back, a little smile temps the corners of her lips as she swipes the mascara-coated tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. The question takes Sera by a slight surprise, but before she could verbalize an answer, her head is nodding. “As long as you don’t make me cry again,” she teased, drawing in a long breath and combing her hair with her fingertips. There’s a few moments of silence, though silence between the two had never been awkward or uncomfortable. Quite the opposite — comforting, homely. “Soon, though, right? ‘Cause, honestly, Gideon.. I need, like, Running a Shady Funeral Home For Dummies book, or something. I have no clue what the fuck I’m doing in there.”

[sera-ton-m]

noravidal​

Without a doubt, the Cartel would track Serafina down if she rejoined her children. And not necessarily because she played an indispensable role, but out of sheer pride. No one left the Cartel behind, at least not with a head on their shoulders. Her father had been the only exception to the rule. However, just because he’d gotten out alive didn’t mean the price he’d paid wasn’t high. Nora herself knew first hand how many sacrifices, sweat, tears, blood and years of his life they’d asked in return. “They would come after you,” words escaped Nora’s lips, and she mentally cursed herself for not being able to be more comforting. On the other hand, in their world, honesty was a luxury as well. To be able to be brutally honest with someone provided a sense of twisted comfort as well.

“Not anymore,” the doctor replied hastily as the conversation shifted to her. “Besides, I don’t have a family of my own. I don’t have kids, I don’t anyone to be responsible for, to want better for– so I’m more useful here,” even if she liked to believe so and even spoke of it at times, there was no guarantee she, a sad shell of a woman she once was, would be happy anywhere else in the world. Truly, as it turned out, all her plans for the future had died with her spouse. 

“Your kids are safe, at least,” there, a flicker of hope finally. Nora looked over and gave her a tiny, but sincere smile. “Even if they can’t get, say, Thai in the middle of the night, if they crave it.” The Vidal jested, stating one of the advantages of life in a big city, their big City. “Hope you rub it in their faces as much as you can,” she smirked faintly.

“I suppose no one’s wished you a warm welcome yet, and as far as our orientation days go, we have none– nights like this are the best we can offer, so,” she went ahead and offered another cigarette. The least she could personally do.

—

Tucking a chunk of hair behind her ear, Sera nodded a bit, eyes glancing back at Nora. “Think they’d go easy on me if I played the I’m new, nobody told me the rules card after they hunt me down?” Her tone was a bit lighter now, and a small smile formed on her lips. She entertained the thought briefly — wondering if she’d gained the strength to leave Henry years ago, if she’d still be hunted down, despite her cluelessness. There was a split second, if that, where she thought that perhaps Henry was doing the right thing, keeping her as far away from his work as he could. Though, there was no way of knowing if her safety was his intention. Selflessness wasn’t his strong suit, there was likely some money-driven aspect behind it.

Head cocked to the side, her chest aching a bit to hear the other woman’s response. Despite getting utterly fucked by Henry after his death, inheriting his position and being sucked into the whirlwind of the world she was in now, she at least had her kids. “I’m sorry,” brushed past her lips, just before they pursed slightly. "I think that the kids came before he was in too deep. At least the oldest did.” The youngest of the two was another story, though she wasn’t sure whose story that was to tell along with her own. “He made it work, though. He was barely around, and when he was it wasn’t like we were the Brady Bunch  — always laughing together and solving life’s problems as a team. That was just Henry though,” she huffed. Gideon made it work whenever he was around, he stood in for Henry in the kids’ lives more times than she could count. He, if anyone, was an example of making it work. Mindlessly fidgeting with her hair again, Sera looked up, wanting to say more. She didn’t have much else to say, but she wished so badly that she did. Was she trying to be optimistic for Nora’s sake? Maybe? Optimism was a foreign subject to Sera, especially lately, but maybe it was her maternal nature that made her want to try to encourage the other to not give up on the idea of some sort of family.

"That’s a damn good point,” she chuckled softly, “I’ve not been rubbing it in yet, but I’ll have to start.” Eyes shifted back to the basement as more disturbing sounds echoed up the stairwell, and Sera shifted in her chair in a weak attempt to hide her discomfort. The noises, she’d never get used to. Though, Nora’s welcome did coax her shoulders into relaxing a bit. “Well, thank you,” a smile tugged at Sera’s lips, “I was accepting the god-awful sounds from the basement as little thank-yous, but I appreciate the official welcome. I would, however, love an orientation... maybe a physical copy of some rules and how-to’s, because I have not a damn clue what I’m doing.”

[sera-ton-m]

aaron-keaton​

“A bad time…?” He dropped his hands, from his hips to his sides, adopting a more relaxed stance as he gave the woman a look. It probably was not a good idea to judge a book by its cover, but something about her made him think of a child terrified of looking in the closet, scared that they’ll find a skeleton, a monster there. “Is it a bad time?” He asked her, instead. Whether he was feeling well was no matter to her, was it? That was if she  was a potential client.

“More often than not,” Sera answered simply, shoulders popping up in a quick shrug. Tired eyes shifted around the hallway, taking in her surroundings. “Sign’s nice.” There was a momentary pause before Sera opened her mouth again, “I was just, um, curious. Curious to see if you might be able to,” she lifted the small stack of files in her hands, “maybe just... like, help me make sure that I’m not going to get anymore surpirises from my dead husband.” 

[sera-ton-m]

corditc​:

status: open 

For a man that prided himself in being professional and well put together, odd circumstances certainly had its way with interfering. Both hands were braced against his hips as Chan-yoo peered upwards. There, barely seen between the dulling leaves, sat his cellphone. How the device managed to stay put in such a precarious position was unknown to him. What mattered was a way to get it back down.

“Please don’t laugh.” Yet even he had a hard time keeping his voice even. The situation was just too, well, funny to be anything other than bewildered and amused. “I don’t do well with loud noises.” Sudden, loud noises that came from a disgusting looking bug to be precise. “So when I was sent some cheap jump scare, well, I jumped.” Rather, his hands had done all the moving. “And now my phone’s stuck in a tree and ideally.. I’d like to get it down without breaking the screen.”

Sera, pulling together all of her skills gained from acting classes roughly 30-35 years ago, miming a quick zipper motion across her lips and nodding. Though, this zipper clearly wasn’t that high quality, since it didn’t prevent a little smirk from trying to push through. How she managed to be lucky enough to witness this, she hadn’t one damn clue. 

“How’re your catching skills?”

[sera-ton-m]

noravidal​

“I–” Nora began, but as she opened her mouth, her mind went blank. How much had it been since the deal had been struck? A number of years which felt like a lifetime, for sure. Several moments passed as the doctor mused, and it soon hit her it was her turn to speak, out loud. Since she still couldn’t figure out what the right answer was, her first instinct was to make a joke. “Thirty-something years since I’ve been dissecting dead bugs and insects in my yard, because I kept wondering what they looked like on the inside,“ what turned out to be an altruistic profession had actually begun with curiosity, not altruistically at all. “A few years, I wouldn’t know exactly.” It’s not a date I celebrate. Remained hanging in the air. 

The Vidal would reciprocate the question, but Serafina had already answered. Never wanted this, got stuck– as if Serafina’s tone or overall demeanor weren’t enough, her words confirmed the two women shared the same fate, with possibly one difference: Nora had chosen this at some point. “Did they even give you a choice? –After his death,” Nora faintly recalled the man in question, someone breathing down everyone’s necks did ring a bell, but Nora wasn’t acquainted with him. The unfortunate patient was in the focus of every late-night mission, and the doctor paid little to no attention to the place where she had been brought, determined not to get even more involved. As if she hadn’t been enough already. Nora heaved a sigh, directing her head towards the sky, hoping to see a plane and imagine herself on it once the cigarette smoke cleared. “Have you ever thought about leaving?”

Head shaking, a soft “no” left Sera’s lips. “A few of the people who work here regularly made the decision for me. Everything got transferred to my name, I think if I even thought about selling this place after I found everything out that they’d have me tied up in the basement with one hand free to keep signing papers.” As if the previous words spoken and Nora’s general body language when speaking about the subject wasn’t enough to give it away  –  it was now abundantly clear to Sera that they truly did sit in the same boat. Two souls that had taken a few different paths that lead to the same destination. A destination with a no outlet sign that was only visible after entering. 

“But, yes, I do still think about it,” fingers softly twisted a few hairs. “I think about moving closer to my kids, they’ve both ventured pretty far from this place. They want me to, I think. They think their sad little widow of a mother is just here in the city, running a funeral home all by choice.” It was an amusing thought, at times. That the two adults had not a damn clue what she’d uncovered upon Henry’s death. The life that she’d been sucked into. “But then I have this... rationally irrational fear that they’ll come find me,” Sera’s head nodded toward the basement, the same few members coming to mind once more. “And I’d be too scared to put them in any sort of danger or whatever else.” Pinching her bottom lip between her teeth, she looked at Nora again. “Have you?”

[sera-ton-m]

aaron-keaton​

location: the first floor of a building in Brooklyn Heights - soon to become the office of Aaron Keaton’s private investigation business. Ndlr : for the purpose of plotting, you can also find a lawyer and a doctor’s office in the building when: at around 11am, Monday the 27th

Aaron gave the front door a look, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. A pencil in one hand, a spirit level in the other, the former police chief was trying to find the proper height for putting that sticker on the glass door. The hardest part so far had been finding an office that was large enough and yet within his financial range, somewhere near enough from Manhattan while remaining close enough to home, and last but not least, on the first floor. If things worked well enough, he would rent a larger place, with a front and perhaps hire someone to help him out. But for the time being, it would be a new adventure for him to live on his own.

“Well that doesn’t look too bad now,” he spoke to himself. For the past few months, he had done that a lot, although it rarely carried any of the enthusiasm of today. Tilting his head to the side, the chief of police took a step back, although there really was no turning back for him now because that sticker simply wouldn’t come off so easily, and Aaron couldn’t just run away from living his life much longer either. On the door now read Keaton investigations, and it was not one bit crooked.

It was a little too quiet. The receptionist at the doctor’s office had pointed Sera in this direction, though she wasn’t entirely convinced. Sera gripped the small stack of folders she carried a little tighter, with her grin-and-bear-it demenor taking control. If she turned back now, she’d likely not be returning. Hearing quiet mumbles down the hall hadn’t helped much either, if anything it solidified the current mood of the situation. After getting a bit closer, Sera caught a glimpse of the vaguely-familiar man, taking a deep breath as she continued forward. 

“Is this a bad time?” She posed, head cocking at a slight angle.

[sera-ton-m]

noravidal​

“Good.” Nora breathed a tiny smile as she took another drag– in a deafening silence, she was able to hear the end of her cigarette flaring up to a fiery red. “The usual, no worse. Lots of blood, bloody weapons, testosterone, rage. You’d think I would be used to it by now.”

Her gaze flickered over to the other woman, disrupting the borderline peaceful moment. “… Never?” There was some disbelief in her voice. With the funeral home being one of the places with strategic importance and where all sorts of missions began, ended or simply unraveled– it was a bit hard to believe she’d never ventured downstairs, as the owner. And if she truly hadn’t, it must’ve been a choice not to.  

“Why not?”

Even the mere mention of the basement’s happenings caused Sera’s eyebrows to furrow just slightly. Nose scrunched a bit at the mental image produced by Nora’s words, though for some reason she could never properly picture any of it. No matter how many things she heard over the many nights she’d been stuck there, she’d still barely been able to process the reality. “How long’ve you been doing it?” 

 The question, though, still took Sera by a slight surprise. “I never wanted to,” was the simple answer, and was presented as such with a shrug. After a small pause, she spoke again. “I, um, I never knew what was going on here. Not until, like, two... maybe three months ago.” It was a soft admission, but her obliviousness wasn’t something she was willing to hide. Thirty years of blissful ignorance to her husband’s doings was a damn accomplishment, and should be treated as such. At least, that’s what she told herself. “My husband did everything. He did the late nights here, he did the... I don’t know... whatever else was needed. Probably breathed down everyone’s necks in the process, too. When he died, though, I got stuck with all of this,” she gestured to the room before them. “Staying’s not ideal, of course. But it’s a lot easier than leaving.”

[dailyflicks]

BEFORE SUNRISE (1995) dir. Richard Linklater

[sera-ton-m]

@gideonhayes

[sera-ton-m]

gideonhayes​

It’s a goddamn rollercoaster, she’s taking him on. Gideon’s face is doing all the talking, now. She says no, he lets out a frustrated huff. She carries on about not talking to anyone, and he’s got this affronted look on his face as if she’d just spat in his Lucky Charms and then thrown the box on the floor just to stomp on it three times. Everyone knows how he feels about that goddamn cereal. She’s got that look in her goddamn eye, too. He’s seen it before. He’s a goddamn sucker whenever it appears. “With me, god dammit, Sera. Be reasonable with me.” Screw the rest of them, except the ones he likes. They don’t have a place in this conversation. He’s ready to go on a rant, too, until she flips the goddamn switch. “No I goddamn wasn’t.” He’s still ready to goddamn argue, though. As if she was part of the job. He’d made arrangements specifically for his personal interests, meshing work and her and putting her in the goddamn middle of it all more than Henry ever did. Speaking of. “Well. Uh.” What do you goddamn say to that. “…How does that make you feel?”

__

Sera cleared her throat, desperately trying to rid her throat of the lump before she fully broke down. She’d made it this long since Henry’s passing without it, and she’d be damned if she didn’t go down without a fight before finally cracking.

Eyes flicked up at Gideon, eyes that were starting to blur with tears. Blinking would only send them down her cheeks, but not blinking blurred her vision even more. A quick swipe under each eye with the tip of her fingers would do for now, followed by a deep breath. “Okay,” she responded quietly. “Okay, I... yeah, I’ll— I’m sorry.” The tears were slowly filling her eyes once more, “I’m sorry for blocking you out. I’m sorry for all of it. I’m not used to making any sort of decisions about any of this shit. I hate it, I do. I hate this ridiculous lost feeling. I have no clue what I’m doing at the home, no clue what I’m doing in my own home..” Sera trailed off, a bit late to the tear swiping this round. By the time she swiped her eyes, more were already coming down. The floodgates had opened.

“I don’t feel great.” Grate, get it? “It was only a little... maybe less than half of him, just... out of spite and bitterness and every other ugly feeling he left me with.” There was no more swiping, we’re now on DEFCON 1 with the tear battle and Sera’s losing. They’re pouring out of her eyes faster than she can even attempt to wipe them away. It’s a losing battle. “I thought that I wanted to be alone, Gideon. I thought that my life would be better off this way, but I don’t think it’s going to be. I don’t want to be alone.”

[sera-ton-m]

noravidal​

Get comfortable, Nora didn’t think she could. Or ever would, try as she might. Nicotine was a nice start, she supposed, though, eyes fixated on the No Smoking sign. The Vidal had broken many rules, many laws, (as well as her own principles) tonight, what was one more to add to the list? “Yeah, sure– thank you,” she had a lighter somewhere on the bottom of her bag, but fishing it out seemed like a task too difficult for her body to complete. “Here’s to relaxation,” she murmured before taking the first drag.

Nora didn’t expect Serafina to say anything though, the two of them didn’t really need to interact– the doctor herself wasn’t eager to make friends with other fellow Cartel members, and she told herself she was comforted by the silence, contrasting the horrifying screams and grunts from the basement. And yet, she heard herself speak as if the silence wasn’t enough. “How much did you hear? See?”

“Relaxation,” Sera echoed, just barely above a whisper. Her heart did ache a bit for the woman beside her, she seemed so young. Sera couldn’t even imagine what being a part of the cartel throughout her adulthood would’ve been like, though she was almost positive she would’ve hated it. Almost as much as she did now. 

“I’ve heard... more than enough, I think,” she spoke with a sigh. Catching her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes flicked over to the direction of the basement. “I haven’t seen anything. Like, at all. I usually just avoid everyone until they’re gone. Then I lock up and go.” Was that the right answer? Probably not. But there was no benefit in seeing whatever sights lined up with the unavoidable sounds coming from the basement. “I’ve never even been down there, honestly.” The admision was quiet, but not shameful. Sera had no desire to see whatever was happening back when she thought her husband was running a normal funeral home, and had even less now that she knew what really was happening down there anymore. “How bad is it?”

[sera-ton-m]

darlaxnorth​

—

She stopped herself from offering the trite: I survived being a widow and you will too because what the fuck did she know about another person’s survival? Sera was her own universe experiencing her own loss. Curious though, as people often in the initial months knew to the day how long their person had been deceased. The time changed to months later on but – Darla didn’t press. “The best part about holiday decorating is if you pick the right things, you won’t have to take them down until spring and by then, there’s no big holiday to decorate for until Halloween.” Unless she was forgetting one. Who decorated for President’s Day?

Darla took her time appraising things. She had an account set-up for her by her ex-husband for certain things that would look good from a marketing stand-point. “I was told to look for things that aren’t … denominational. I have a list…” she opened her purse and pulled out the piece of paper. “The problem is - I have people from different faiths mixed with atheists, some want a Christmas tree. Others want a Menorah. I can do both until we get to the point where some want nothing. Which is also fair, and I can keep the festivities to a room that isn’t often used…” she had a headache already, just trying to think through the logistics of giving everyone at least something close to what they wanted. “But I thought … perhaps white and red. Rainbow lights. I –” she laughed and admitted. “I’ve never shopped for Christmas decorations.” She had always stolen what she could from other people’s houses, lawns and porches. “I don’t know what is needed to look cohesive.”

__

“That’s true,” Sera’s head nodded side-to-side. She’d never been a fan of holidays herself, the only childhood memories she had of holidays involved a heightened amount of stress on her own shoulders as she prepared for different holiday pageants. Not the worst scenarios by any means, just not pleasant. 

A list. A list would’ve been a great idea for Sera. If not just for practicality, but for her own mental benefit. The trip likely would’ve been a lot less flustered had she had even the slightest idea of what the hell she was buying. “White lights are nice and simple,” she started, “but depending on how they’re used, I suppose they could be elegeant too, yeah? And not necessarily tied to just one holiday.” Gears in Sera’s head were turning, only slightly. “Maybe just focus on one thing at a time.” Maybe some of Henry’s party-planning skills and ideas had rubbed off on Sera a bit. Not in time to solve her own dilemma, but luckily for Darla, just in time to help her.  “There are, like, hundreds of Christmas color schemes, or maybe a few shy of that. There’s bright and colorful... classical and anitque-y... alternative colors for classical decor... and a lot more than I can’t think of... whichever floats your boat, really. Hannukkah and Kwanzaa have their own classical and alternative spins on classical decor as well. Then for those who aren’t celebrating, maybe just some new holiday-less seasonal decor?”