It's been quiet in my mind, now I'm paranoid. It's just a matter of time before it's making noise.
"I guess you can just call me Doc, but I'm Holder Teichman. I'm 36 years old, and a Boston native which means I'm just visiting Huntsville. I've been a coroner for the past several years, as I find it far easier to work with the dead than the living, these days. Back in my prime, though, I was a surgical prodigy- capable enough that I found myself in the clutches of Boston's notorious Mystic River Killer- and forced to circumvent their death... an act that lead to several more, given that I'm the only surviving victim. I've been in Huntsville for almost a year and have settled as best I can into the position that feels most at home for me. Despite my previously illustrious life, at present, I am a guilt-ridden, repentant, traumatized shell of my former self.- A handful of traits that I fear my best efforts and unwavering loyalty and altruism cannot counter."
Name: Holder Albert Teichman
Aliases: Doc, Dr. Teichman, Holder
Age: 36
Sexuality/Gender: Homosexual Trans Man He/Him
Personality: A deeply nervous man, Holder's speech patterns are laden with stutters and uncertainty, and he finds it difficult in the present day to trust anyone, much less a town full of relative strangers. Endlessly loyal when he eventually allows himself to trust someone, it's guilt that guides his actions and efforts- a constant belief that his stringent clinging to his Hippocratic oath in the moment that he had to decide whether or not to let the Mystic River Killer die caused the death of three more people- and left him the sole survivor of their bloody rampage. Driven to help others to the point of self-harm, he'd set himself ablaze to keep someone else warm for even a moment longer, kindness often taken full advantage of by those without his best interest at heart, sensationalized and exploited for a time after his brush with death- it was really only his arrival in Huntsville that allowed him to take a breath and stop answering to the constant interviews from news media, television, and the dreaded true crime podcaster.
Occupation: While a Coroner in Huntsville, Holder's former work was that of a surgeon- though his shakes and injured right hand have left him unable to trust himself to work on anyone who isn't already dead.
Affiliations: Huntsville Police Department, the Town of Huntsville
Scent Profile: Faint cologne and aftershave he's about to run out of, the constant clinging scent of blood and antiseptic, as clean as one can be in the aftermath of what's happened to Huntsville. There's the faintest smell of wood polish, paints and oils- though this is clearly tied to his hobby over his work.
Aesthetic: Tight leather gloves hiding the reminder of your most crushing shame, blood and sweat clinging to pale skin- the shadow of doubt looming over your shoulder. You are no killer, so now their blood is on your destroyed hands. A pendulum, a pivot- the world changes, so you do. Now the ferryman, pennies on the eyes, a fee for the afterlife- their journey overseen by careful, still-shaking hands and a desperation to right the wrongs you've inflicted. your phone still rings off the hook, they didn't tell you when your morals and virtues die in the split second you make that kind of decision that the vultures come despite the body still breathing. You are a story. You are trauma porn. You are clicks and interactions and you cannot take it anymore.
This place is a godsend. You feel just as guilty for that feeling as you do everything else.
It's like an hourglass I can't turn over And when it's out, it comes down like a mortar.
CHAPTER ONE: LIFE IN HUNTSVILLE POST ARRIVAL
Now serving as one of Huntsville's Coroners, Doc is, strangely, doing better than he ever was on the outside. The constant media circus unwilling to let his trauma die with the other victims of the Mystic River Killer now on the other side of a barrier that silences all emails, phone calls, and interruptions, he's comfortable in the quiet that's come from being allowed to focus on his work, even if the bodies he's handed are particularly brutal. There's a comfort in the commonality of cause of death- 'ghost related slaughtering' is an easy enough marker to make on paperwork, with the rare deviation to include natural disaster, gunshots, and falls from great heights. There is a comfort in death- a comfort Doc has not been offered- but not for lack of trying.
Even now struggling to trust the people around him- and to cope with the reality of his continued survival in the face of crushing odds when others haven't been so 'lucky'- Doc's tenuous friendships with his coworkers- and those who have attempted to get past the walls he's hastily cobbled together to assure him there's no reason to be alone in a place where more people than anywhere else understand the ache of losing someone to savagery. But their efforts are slow-moving, as Holder's trauma lingers, crawling and creeping through his mind like tentacles to constrict ever tighter- ironic, he reasons, given the current state of things in the place he's found himself. His is an existence of slight hermithood- loyal to those who have taken the time to offer kindness and care- but not trusting, never trusting.
The willingness to turn one's back on someone was the simplest path toward being stabbed in it, after all.
The torturous rage that's performed on this stage, As I gaze at myself playing this role, It makes me feel whole- When I'm in full control I'm no longer a doll that you own ! ! !
"I'm Hex Halcyon Sif-Sidon- You'd do well not to forget the whole thing, 'cause I'm gonna be a big deal, someday, got it? But I guess you can just call me Hex, Most folk do. I'm 24 years old and I'm a bona-fide circus freak- but I guess, these days, with my tourin' opportunities on hold- I'm fillin' slots as a Police Dispatcher. I arrived in town in with my traveling troupe Seven years ago, and I still live with the surviving members in an abandoned house on the edge of town. I'm not sure how I feel about the Commune, because far be it from the clown to judge anybody else- My greatest vice is my inability to mind my own business, and the fact I'm a hellish gossip."
Name: Hex Halcyon Sif-Sidon
Aliases: Hex, Sif, Baby, B Гиена (v Giyena) [The Hyena], Bubbles the Clown
Personality: A horrendous busybody, Hex is the most extroverted member of the Menagerie post their being trapped within Huntsville, constantly getting themselves involved in the lives and business of others, often uninvited. Peppy and vibrant, they can often come off as 'too much' for the unprepared, and has been since her arrival nearly eight years ago. They don't seem troubled by their new lot in life beyond a lingering sense of wanderlust, and her tendency to make new friends quickly has done her well, despite the fact her reputation as a nosy gossip is well-known.
Occupation: Former Circus Act, Presently working at the local police station as a dispatcher.
Affiliations: The Marvelous Menagerie Traveling Circus, The Huntsville Police, Arkadeon Sidon- their husband, and the Menagerie's present ringmaster, 39 years old.
Scent Profile: Sweet, like sugar and fresh cotton sheets, Like lanolin for violin bows and honey candies made by hand in the kitchen- like sweet flowers for bees they rear and the harsh copper of blood.
Aesthetic: Canvas strips from tents torn into bandages, rubbing alcohol biting into split knuckles and ignored bloodied lips. A painted on grin in white and blue paint hiding a frown beneath, everybody loves a clown- and you've been a fool for some time. Bees sting but once and then they die but they follow the will of a Queen. It is femininity made dagger sharp and deadly- Fear my sting, fear my sting, please do not hurt me.
You've ruined me and everything that used to seem Pleasant to me Is now a broken mockery- Nostalgic lost reality. But now it seems within these dreams the power all belongs to me!
CHAPTER ONE: LIFE IN HUNTSVILLE POST ARRIVAL
Hex has adjusted alarmingly well, all things considered, they miss the glamour of touring and performing that they saw in their teens, but there is a comfort in routine, and her fondness for the bees she keeps, and those who live within her strange little family of circus freaks tends to keep her on the straight and narrow. While their tendency to spread rumors and gossip hasn't earned them many favors, it's also not garnered many detractors in their life, most finding her more than enjoyable to be around given their plucky personality and eagerness to participate in anything she's invited to. She's the public facing presence for the Menagerie, a bright eyed, plucky young thing who garnered her fame in the cirque with her work as a clown and a tightrope walker. She tends to wilt, in the presence of her husband, though if asked about this, she'll quickly change the subject to something else, choosing to think about anything else aside from the man who heads her circus, and the fact their numbers are far smaller than they had been, that faithful night their traveling troupe rolled through the town of Huntsville. They remain close to Mercy, another freak in their circus who headed the sideshow, largely defaulting to his judgement of others when they're together- And with notable friction between Mercy, Arkadeon, and herself, the people of the Menagerie are a frayed tightrope bound to snap someday- Hex simply hopes that they're not the one to cause the break.
