Chapter 29 of the Silt Verses, when Mercer is about to kill Faulkner, and she looks up and says "Beast? Is that You?" only for the next thing we hear to be Carpenter screaming with rage and hitting Mercer like a train? That is the absolute peak of storytelling to me. It's a perfect moment.
Carpenter refusing to be anyone's attack dog but Faulkner's. Faulkner immediately going for the gun to back her up, one of the precious, rare occasions where our terrible twosome are a united front. Mercer, this strange creature that seems more predator than person, laughing, snorting up blood from the broken nose where Carpenter hit her (I know we don't technically know if she does break Mercer's nose, but let's be real Carpenter absolutely hit her right in the face). It's fucking incredible just how clear the scene is. This is gonna be a whole essay so more under the cut
And then when Mercer says "You're bleeding, Beast" it's such a perfect summation of Carpenter it makes me insane.
All her life, until about 9 months ago, Carpenter has been this near-biblical figure of divine wrath. She's on a holy quest to avenge her family. Her Nana and her brother are martyrs, and she has spent a life striking back against the authorities. She's been mythologized by Faulkner already before she's even died. Even before he literally writes her into the verses, before they even met, he'd heard stories about her. Hell, you could argue she mythologises herself- creates the idea of Sister Carpenter, buries Mallory Glass behind her. Starts buying into her own hype. In the big fight she has with Faulkner about who Mason actually trusts in Season 1, she brings up her past pilgrimages and victories.
Like two kids in a field making up the Beast that Stalks in the Long Grass, an imaginary friend to protect them from the horror of killing their bully, Mallory Glass made Carpenter up to shield her from her shame and fear and horror for killing that boy at Nana's house. Not only that, but she succeeded at their goal- she became the Beast. The Trawlerman's attack dog.
But it's not sticking anymore. She *is* bleeding, faith and violence seeping out of her like blood from a wound after the heart has stopped. She's ashamed and exhausted. She doesn't want to be on her righteous quest anymore- it's not helping anything and she can't pretend that it is. If we know two things about Carpenter, they're that she's tired but she wants to help. She wants to be useful. Mallory Glass is dead and gone and there's too much baggage to run from being Carpenter, but she can change what being Carpenter means. She can help instead of harm for the first time in a long time.
Of course, Faulkner fucks that up. Faulkner who's never had a sister. Faulkner who gives as good as he gets when they argue. Faulkner who Carpenter cannot lose, so no matter how much Carpenter refuses to do violence, she will always, always, break that rule for Faulkner. They hated each other on sight and only got slightly better over time. They would die for each other. They make me completely feral when I think about them. I have many many thoughts about Faulkner but they will have to be their own post.
Which brings us to Mercer. Mercer-and-Gage are parallels to Carpenter-and-Faulkner, but part of what makes this scene so absolutely delicious is that it forces Mercer into the spotlight and makes us consider her a foil to Carpenter in particular.
On the surface, it seems like Mercer is a mirror to Faulkner, and she is. Like Faulkner, Mercer is a fanatic devoted to a self-made faith. She writes the story of the Beast with the same sense of grandeur Faulkner declares himself Prophet. They both believe themselves destined for divine favour, and both shatter like glass when this turns out not to be the case. Both have tied themselves to sinking ships.
Her connections to Carpenter, on the other hand, run under the surface. Like Carpenter, Mercer was raised without family (save Gage) or community. She becomes a near-deific force of violence in her quest to become something greater than a scared little girl. She starts believing her own hype. Gage's flute is the huntmaster's horn and Mercer is the hound, in much the same way as Carpenter is Faulkner's guard dog.
Gage is also a fascinating mirror to the terrible twosome, of course, and like Faulkner deserves their own post. They are, however, missing an experience that ties the other three together. Mercer may have nearly lost Gage as kids, but it hasn't really been the other way around until now. In the same way that Carpenter cannot stand to lose Faulkner, Mercer cannot even think about losing Gage or she spirals.
Most interestingly to me, this makes her opposite to Faulkner, despite their otherwise very similar personalities. Faulkner has guilt about killing his brother and damning his sister, but he follows through. Mercer has a body count in the hundreds, but the trauma of nearly losing Gage means she will never be as ruthless as Faulkner, who at this point has only killed another person directly once.
No wonder Mercer is so afraid that Gage is losing faith in their god. Without the Beast, they are lacking a fundamental understanding of each other. Mercer looks at Gage and sees something she almost lost once and cannot bear to be without. Gage looks at Mercer and wishes she would get lost, at least a little bit. Give them room to breathe and think about something outside the Beast.
Mercer cannot understand why Gage would want to leave, because Mercer needs Gage to be safe with her in the shelter of violence the Beast provides. Gage cannot understand why Mercer wants to stay and keep feeding parts of herself to this story they made up, because it is just a story and it cannot give them purpose forever. Carpenter and Faulkner are constantly at each other's throats, but their respective grief gives them a baseline understanding of each other's choices. When Faulkner betrays Carpenter, she can look at his face and understand why. When Gage runs up to try to get Mercer to back down, they might as well be strangers.
I said I’d get them flowers if they bully me I will become violent /lh /hj
They are both quiet for a bit.
Epilogue breaks the silence first, his smile wide and knowing. "Little Staaarrrr. Little Lover... Our Moonlight." He almost growls as he lets Prologue take the flowers from your hand, carefully.
They hold the flowers and look them over.
Epilogue speaks again, voice hoarse, loving in its tone. "Is this... A Love confession. Little dear Heart?" he coos. Prologue looks just as lovesick as he does.
Prologue hums. "We would never... Bully you." He puts the flowers' stems in his pocket so the flowers are just only poking out.
As they turn to you, they get on one knee in front of you, grabbing the hand that you gave them the flowers with. They lift that hand up to their grin and then brush their teeth against your knuckles. "We accept." They both say, Epilogue winks, because he can't help himself.
"Hm. Moon, do we have anything we can give our little darling here?" Prologue curiously asks.
Epilogue purrs and nods their head before rolling up your sleeve as they were still holding your hand.
"We will give you something. Back. As a thank you. For choosing us." Epilogue strains, slightly excited. Prologue watches you, eye squinted, and a tad crinkled at the corner.
Once Epilogue deems the sleeve is perfectly rolled up to your elbow, he pulls you close by your arm. He hums as he puts his grin against your forearm. His teeth part, you can feel it on the skin of your arm, making you shudder.
With a soft chuckle, Epilogue parts their teeth, then lets both of their tongues lick up a stripe on your arm. The tongues slither back into their mouth and then with a sudden move, their teeth connect with the flesh of your arm.
They bite hard down and hold it there. Epilogue's teeth pierce your skin but only lightly.
Once satisfied, they pull back and let their tongues come out again to lick over the mark they have put on your forearm.
"Good job. Little light. Little darling. Our Moonlight, Darling Heart." They both say, praising, voices hushed as the tongues once more disappear behind their now closed grin. They look at the bitemark, their smile bigger than before.
"There. Now you are ours." Epilogue says with a rasp, then lets go of your arm, gets up from his kneeling position, and stands in front of you, arms folded behind his back. Their smiles are still big, but their eyes look soft and fond.
James watches Regulus. James watches him because Sirius claims not to care, to have washed his hands of his brother, but James watches Sirius as well, so he knows. He knows that Sirius allows himself to look at his brother’s back when Regulus is sitting facing away from the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. He sees how Sirius pulls the map into his lap late at night when Regulus’ name lingers in the astronomy tower, how he tenses when Regulus gets a little too close to the edge.
James watches Regulus, so he knows. He knows that Regulus is the reason Sirius is never hexed during quidditch games, though Regulus’ teammates certainly like to try. He sees the haughty expression on Regulus’ face when they pass each other in the halls and Sirius doesn’t utter a word, how it melts into hurt and regret when his older brother doesn’t turn around to see it, but James does.
James doesn’t know what to do, exactly, not when both brothers aren’t yet ready to listen. So he bears witness, collects the longing and the love unacknowledged between them, and puts it somewhere safe inside him so that he can share it all when they’re ready. There’s so much of it that he’s nearly bursting. He hopes they’re ready one day soon.
