Sully (just)

[Gideon]

I need your help. Talia -- she's broken, she's got religion and it's not exactly like her at all to go and catch that, except she knows she's broken. Apparently a Mormon did it. It doesn't look normal, Gideon, it looks like magic only Market would go, wouldn't it? She said his name was Young, Elder Young. Isn't this what the Library is for, making sure people don't go breaking other people?

[Liam]

[Extremely short: the blunt letters are small and cramped, the kind of inelegant handwriting better suited to the cautious character of one who closely examines things. It is Sully-of-the-Gang and not Sully-himself and whilst Ephraim Sullivan does not think to draw the man back from what is his unspoken repetition and pattern no more than he could tides and the moon -- what Talia and Liam have is un-discussed and difficult, one of the crevasses in the crumbling between what was once Gang and now is long gone and incomprehensible to one who came after -- but yet important.]

When you get back, could you let me know?

[Cass]

She's not permanently broken. I don't think.


[Haven]

How do you go about taking things off other people?


[Public]

[An extremely small sketch -- all blacks and greys and sober monochrome, this time of a bus station and people moving swiftly enough to be faint blurs beneath the rain. It is architectural rather than focused on faces, on hands, the usual style tucked away into what is almost a blueprint made dimensional. It is not Sully and yet it is, all pencil and charcoal and faint borders of ink to keep it all contained]

[Gideon]

Does Tali still see you? Do you still see her? Has she bought anything strange, lately?

[Liam]

Did you notice?

[Cass]

Can I put the wandering plans on hold? I might have to go and see my sister.

[Em]

Is it normal to like God a lot?

[Public]

Fact: people do not stop for street art when it is raining.

[The hand here is dashing, the writing leans against the page companionably, as if shouldering up to old friend, nudging in the ribs and saying, 'hi, pay attention to me' with well-accustomed familiarity rather than desperate fanfare. It smears a little; charcoal tends to do that without fixative in place, and the page in general is grimy; fingerprints on edges, a dot of what might be paint, possibly left-over food dropped on the corner of the page, who knows when it is Sully and it's a journal fished out of a pocket -- usually long forgotten for periods of time. Switches to pencil half-way through but the jaunty capitals with their lopsided strokes for Ts and Js and all others in need of crossing and dotting, continue on their merry way with all the verve of misapplied artist-tools]

Things seen in church this morning

Eight feathery hats. (none of them nice)

Old, fat man snoring with brass buttons on his coat.

Woman wearing one blue shoe and one black shoe (also run in tights but probably hadn't noticed)

Little boy asleep, nearly falling out of pew.

Three girls fiddling with their phones in a line.

I am just as bad. Everyone has to sit still in church. It's wonderful! [Not remotely apologetic]

( Sent to Em Andley, c/o Haven )


( Left around the flat, for a sister never really there )

( Tomas Riley )

The kind of man NO ONE should rely on.( Read more... )