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 Posted: Tue Dec 03, 2013 12:33 am
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Posted: Tue Feb 11, 2014 3:29 pm
. (CONTENT WARNING: Suicide mention) Anita and Cruz drop by to celebrate New Year's Eve with Duncan, Mordekai, and some of his friends.
▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪
Mordekai did as Duncan said. He sent out invitations to the same people that were invited to Thanksgiving-- the ones that rejected before rejected again, and many more followed. Anne's friends were learning to move on, Jocelyn and Kashi had other friends to tend to. Rebecca chose similar friendly excursions and warily left her children with a babysitter instead of at Duncan's home-- she didn't seem too pleased when Mordekai had texted her.
The one person who hadn't responded back was Johan, but as New Years Eve rolled on, Mordekai realized there would be no answer. That was okay, though it caused Duncan and Mordekai both some worry; was he mad about something, or was he simply busy? Who knew.
It was lonely at the Clarke household until late evening, though preparations began in the afternoon. The only attendants to their New Years tirade that arrived early were Farrer, Skye, Twain, Garcia, and Lyons, who filed in with several packs' of beer and wide smiles. Mordekai received them with equal warmth, though Duncan was initially reticent-- why that much liquor? We already have champagne. They all laughed at him. That's cute.
After their guests settled in, Mordekai was able to start the grill and prepare the marinated ribs for sustenance that wasn't lager, as they'd already had their fair share of alcohol only an hour or so into their entrance. Farrer practically tackled the blonde away from the grill site to do it his own way, shirtless and cheeky with beer in hand; this left Mordekai in the hands of Duncan and the four other men, who lounged in the backyard, laughing like a pack of stray hyenas. Mordekai stared off into the garden ambivalently through the beginning of the excursion, laughing along occasionally.
Even while basking in the New Years warmth, Mordekai couldn't help but think about the texts he'd sent only two weeks ago: he didn't forget Anita, not this time, but he was doubtful that she would arrive. He invited her for Duncan's sake, to help understand if Anita hated him or not-- but he still couldn't tell if she was simply being courteous or not. A part of him hoped she wouldn't come today out of fear of confrontation-- even after all this time, he wasn't necessarily sure if he was ready to talk. Not about that. Not to a stranger.
Eventually, Mordekai resounded to putting on a show and hiding his worries: he pleased his friends by laughing along to their jokes, smiling back when he could. He asked Farrer if he could stop ******** his grill again. When Farrer told him to give him a moment, Mordekai sunk into his chair and soaked in the current mood of the crowd: there were his closest friends and Duncan. It was supposed to be pleasant-- he took another swig of his beer. This is pleasant.
He supposed, if Anita didn't come, she wouldn't be susceptible to a gaggle of shirtless, tizzy men, and an old man also on the verge of getting there.
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Posted: Thu Feb 20, 2014 10:29 pm
. (CONTENT WARNING: Suicide mention) Despite the late notice, Anita celebrates Duncan's birthday with Mordekai and his brother.
▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪
January 20th fell on a Monday this year.
And maybe that was a blessing-- even if it was a special day, the man of honor wasn't particularly inclined towards entertaining a large number of guests. He was very much a person of solitude and quiet days and flora, yes, and perhaps the house was still recovering from New Years (already three weeks ago!), but it didn't feel quite right to let the occasion slip by. After all, he at least enjoyed the company of his loved ones, of the few family members and friends that were in Gaia, and he hadn't seen them for a very, very long time, and it seemed like even longer that they'd even uttered the words Happy Birthday, Duncan!
But there was nothing worse for Duncan than to make any celebration too big of a fuss, especially one that centered around him. Mordekai allowed Duncan to fall into his daily routine of morning tea and scholarly books and greeting the garden before the older man finally set off to work. For Mordekai, he stayed in like he often did on a winter season's day and set about the birthday preparé or the evening.
It was nothing grandiose. Maybe it was too simple-- all of the chores around the house were done for the day and the house looked cleaner than it had in years, other than a nervous pile of mail left untouched at the front room desk. The kitchen wafted with the smell of skillet cornbread and chili that clung like aromatic cellophane around the house, and blessed be, the snow was shoveled off of the driveway and sidewalks so Duncan didn't have to worry about the frost coming back. And that was it, outside of a small and plain cardboard box that sat at the edge of the counter, which Mordekai wasn't sure was too good of a present in the first place, but what really mattered were the guests and potential idle pleasantries.
And the guests, how important were they! Mordekai dialed and texted as many guests as he knew of the same Monday, all of whom were people whose numbers he managed to retrieve in some form over the past fifteen-sixteen years of knowing Duncan. He called nearly everyone Duncan knew and hadn't seen in so long, but many of them cited a busy post-Christmas season, and many others weren't bothered enough to respond back. There were a few idle maybes, a few nervous okays.
Yet, by the time the arranged hour was nearing, the house was empty. Maybe the promise of a quiet and simple get-together wasn't as enticing as their usual invitations of too-much-food. By the start of the hour, the only person at the door was the one man Mordekai hadn't expected to see, nor had seen in a matter of three months. Still, Johan greeted him with an awkward smile and made his way into the premise without so much to say. They filled the silence with whiskey a few minutes in, and in their stifled conversation, they waited.
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Posted: Wed Feb 26, 2014 3:39 am
. February was an idle month for both Duncan and Mordekai. The farm store was always sluggish in the winter months, which meant that Mordekai had time for chores and Duncan had more time for the museum. While Duncan was largely a person for peace and quiet, he celebrated a small birthday with his museum co-workers early in February, and provided idle talk with men his age about work and family. Duncan didn't talk much, no, but as a reward for his efforts in going to the celebration in the first place, he returned home with a complementary case of wine and books. He often read, but he never drank, so when he displayed the case on the kitchen counter that evening, he inquired about a name often suited for wine: Leigh Brighton.
Leigh Brighton was Annie's closest friend, and they rarely spoke of her for three years. Annie was always a physical person, one to kiss and clutch and dance in place of words, which was maybe why she was so fascinated by Leigh since the fateful day she walked into her bookstore and said, yes, she was a writer (of sorts), an occupant of a language Annie envied to know.
Annie clung to her with a fervor frequently seen in sisters, and sometimes in lovers, with her fingers intertwining with Leigh's and through her hair to offer comfort and admiration. And Leigh tolerated it, most surprising of all, even past the initial hesitation. When Mordekai remembered Leigh, he remembered Durem, even though Leigh lived in Barton, because she would drive hours away from her home for long nights and to tolerate their presence.
When Duncan remembered Leigh, he felt an ache in his heart and remembered those tales of long nights and eager tolerance. He remembered tales woven with the musty walls of Annie's townhouse and the fragrance of lemon and wine and pancakes, sewn together with an awkward balance of calm and Annie's boisterousness that he knew drove people into doing things they did not know. With Leigh, Duncan left behind stories of flowers and gardens and expanses of grass as she crafted a tale of her childhood that pined with familiarity.
And though Leigh never gave herself too much credit, despite these memories-- she always said she was plain or uninteresting or no, she wasn't really a writer, just a hobbyist, Annie spoke again in actions so sweetly missed, and her love was so infectious that it clung to Duncan and Mordekai so fervently that they saw Leigh as a daughter and a sister of their own. But they waned away from it that October in 2011 as they sat in the emergency room, because the warmth that continued to cling to them for Leigh was now hot with envy, because this sister and daughter they knew had a love they could scarcely comprehend, and would now never know. Yet they remained sick with love for all those years, despite their practiced sadness and avoidance and unfair anger, because they knew Annie's love wasn't her fault.
Duncan came to that realization much earlier than Mordekai did, perhaps, because nostalgia no longer made him ill. So, when a new sprig of violets sprung in February, and clung awfully close to the pomegranate bramble, now sick and dying, Mordekai sat in front of his computer for the first time in a month to plan his Friday. When Duncan looked out at the garden that winter, he ached of disappointment and tired and wariness, and Mordekai wondered if it was from the sick he felt on January 20th, and Mordekai couldn't think of a better way to reconcile Duncan's loneliness than for him to see family again.
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Posted: Thu Feb 27, 2014 3:46 pm
. Mordekai makes his way to The Shy Violet to visit Leigh Brighton, a close friend he'd lost touch with years ago.
▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪
It was a longer haul than expected to get between the outskirts of Barton to somewhere inside of it. That being said, the last time Mordekai had purposefully visited Barton, he had a car, not a bike and the godless public transportation system. He was also bringing a basketful of food and a tray with a silver platter, which he didn't realize Duncan owned until four hours ago, when he left the house.
He also had to write down the directions of and memorize the route to The Shy Violet. By the time he got off of the subway, he couldn't decipher what he'd written. As a result, he got lost around Barton for another hour. He left in the morning expecting to get to Leigh's house early, drop off his gifts, apologize, and be on his way. He reckoned she wouldn't want to see him much, after all these years.
By the time he reached the entrance of the Violet, it was well into the afternoon, and his clothes were dusted and soggy with considerable layers of snow, melted or otherwise. Mordekai stared up at the name Shy Violet and read over it three times, just to soak in the familiarity and confirm that this was the right place. He admired the baubles at the front window while locking up his bike by the street, then pushed the door open as quietly as he could, though shoes weren't as kind to the idea. The sound of squeaky soles sounded against the floor.
Mordekai adjusted the grip of the food basket in his hand and the platter beneath his arms. He looked up and around the walls to admire the store, and he couldn't help but laugh to himself.
"This place hasn't changed one bit..."
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Posted: Sun Mar 16, 2014 4:43 pm
. Duncan and Mordekai prepare for the crawfish boil with some good company: Leigh, Cruz, and Anita.
▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪
Crawfish preparation was to be relatively simple, were they to keep on schedule. Given his own workload and Mordekai's, though, especially with the oncoming spring season, it was better to ask for helping hands on the excursion. Three weeks before the event, Duncan sifted through the list of Lab guardians and friends he knew of that could potentially help, despite Mordekai's initial protest that he could do things on his own. In the end, they settled on calling Anita-- a trusted Lab friend-- and Leigh, because the crawfish boil was meant to be a family excursion, after all. They were to meet March 2nd to get most of the errands out of the way. They agreed to meet at Duncan's house first, around 10 in the morning, where Duncan and Mordekai awaited with tea and coffee.
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Posted: Mon Mar 17, 2014 3:51 am
. Everyone piles into Duncan's car and chat while making their way to the Durem markets.
▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪
After everyone was done with their fill of tea, coffee, and other breakfast entrees, it was decided that they would take Duncan's car to Durem, as he knew the directions to Rugby's already. It was a peaceful exit to the car, for the most part.
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Posted: Mon Mar 17, 2014 3:51 am
. Everyone arrives at Rugby's Market, renown for their produce.
▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪
Rugby's Market was an impressively sized warehouse located just outside of the edge of Durem. The area itself was cozy and filled with grass and flora and other niche cuisine areas, which filled the street with the scent of warm garlic, spices, and roasting meat.
Duncan managed to find a parking space only a few minutes away from Rugby's. He chose to walk to the area comfortably, mentioning in passing a few of the markets and restaurants that were impressionable to Anita and Leigh, while Mordekai chose to enthusiastically pace and run the whole route through. The blond stopped once reaching the entrance, a two-way glass door where the rest of the amply lit warehouse could be seen, and pushed the entrance open for the remaining company.
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Posted: Tue Mar 25, 2014 11:02 pm
. Duncan and Mordekai enjoy some good food with a lot of new company.
▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪
As with many things, certain aspects of the preparation were running late. Still, the Raevan baskets were set out to collect, and people were filing in, but boiling over 100 pounds of crawfish to Durem and shucking the corn and potatoes to go along with it was hell on earth. As people began filing into the event, however, the older gentleman grabbed a few pamphlets from the cafeteria table out front and made his way toward the small group.
“Hello, everyone,” Duncan called out, while extending the pile of pamphlets out for those who were willing to grab them, “As it stands, we're still preparing the crawfish, but I see the buffet table was simple enough to find. If you could, please take these pamphlets, they're some guidelines to feed our Raevan guests. There are also name tags for anyone who'd like them, and markers are over at the end of the Raevan table over there.”
A tanned blond poked his head out of the Lab cafeteria at the scenery, and waved toward the crowd. “Hey, y'all! Someone big an' strong wanna help me wit' this second vat of crawfish?”
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Posted: Sat Apr 05, 2014 6:46 pm
. Mordekai receives a call from one Camille Moore a few days after the crawfish boil.
▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪
There were a few rings over the line, Cam’s brow furrowed in anticipation as he settled on the couch in Troxel’s four-season room. He jumped when a very abrupt and loud cry over the receiver where he was expecting trepidation in the fellow Cajun’s greeting.
"QUI ÇA DIT--!”
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Posted: Thu Apr 17, 2014 9:19 pm
. A few texts later, and Mordekai agrees to meet with Anita at Gambino.
▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪
Did Mordekai remember how to get to Anita's apartment? He thought so. He left without checking MapQuest prior, though, so the worry only came to mind after the first half of the trip. He would've asked Duncan if he wasn't busy with his morning routine. He figured it would be fine.
For the most part, it was. His memory of Gambino managed to surprise him at how lucid it was by the time he exited the highway. He took the long way toward Lab 305 and took what he remembered from there to find the apartments, which wasn't bad at all. When he checked the car clock before he left, it was roughly 11AM.
He wasn't overly fond of car rides with only himself, much less for more than fifteen minutes at a time. He stretched out his arms and opened his palms up to collect some of the ocean breeze, yawned, and did a once-over of the complex by looking around the area.
This was the difficult part-- which building did she live in? He studied the apartments with his arms rested on the roof of Duncan's small car. It took a few minutes of staring, but he remembered the view from Anita's apartment, which loomed over the coast. From there, he played pick-and-choose by memory of floor levels and aisle numbers and how many doors they passed to get to Anita and Cruz's residence. If he couldn't find it, there was always the idea of calling out Tango's name loudly.
Or calling Anita for help-- but that only came to mind once he reached where he (probably) needed to be. He stared at the door and studied the number in front of it, shrugged, and knocked on the door a few times. He stood back and waited, hands in his pants pockets with one looming over his cellphone just in case.
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