Logs:Eternal Family

Eternal Family
Dramatis Personae DJ, Lily
In Absentia Hive, Dawson	2023-02-08 you've all finally helped me understand why I was given this world.
Location <NYC> Chimaera Arts - Dumbo
This is just one of the many abandoned warehouses in DUMBO, and like many of them it has recently changed hands. Unlike most of those, however, it does not have some corporate developer's sign out front promising a transformation into luxury condominiums or a boutique shopping center or the latest concept restaurant. Instead it's marked by a piece of weathered but wildly colorful plywood propped up on a stack of broken pallets, which reads "Chimaera Art Space!" above "chimaera.org" in smaller letters. The warehouse is moderately large and decorated with graffiti art in various styles--some of it recognizable as the work of renowned local street artists. A pair of monstrous scrap metal sculptures, perhaps still works in progress, flank the entrance. The building itself has undergone significant renovation recently, complete with wiring, plumbing, and a modular partitioning system. The grounds, too, have been cleaned up, ramshackle fences torn down and rusting detritus removed in favor of reclaimed (and brilliantly repainted) outdoor furniture ringing an impressively engineered firepit. Once, there was a large backlog taking up the Chimera woodshop, the unfinished projects and commissions haunting anyone trying to use this space. Now, it is -- maybe still not as popular a venue in the collective as it was before, but a few entirely new projects in new styles are taking shape as completed Dawson Allred originals move on, slowly, to their intended homes. A new corner of completed work has taken shape as the incompletes dwindle. There is a strong argument to be made that the shop is still haunted, tonight, from the belongings next to the door to the duo at work completing a credenza. By the door, a small hiking pack has a folded set of scrubs tucked underneath the open zipper, a pair of Extremely Sensible black clogs beside it and a lanyard reading "Lily Allred - Physical Medicine and Rehab - Albert Einstein College of Medicine" under her face and the logo of the Montefiore Medical Center hooked onto the side of the bag. Lily's black denim overalls are lightly dusted by sawdust, as are her green-blue flannel button up underneath the bib and her paintsplattered boots. Her hair is braided and pinned securely out of her face, eyes protected by the outflow of dust by safety goggles. A silver chain is clipped to a belt loop and disappears into her right pocket. Right now Lily is not actively covering herself with more sawdust, but marking out instead where next to cut this piece of wood with a bevel gauge and pencil. Glances over at her co-woodworker, then back to her lumber, as if understanding the task he's working on will make her more confident in her line placements. "I thought the electives would take up as much time as the rotations," she's saying, "but everything is easing up towards residency matching. I think I could actually take a Sunday off from basic life management and come to meeting, soon." "All the people who think Saints don't believe in hell has never met an LDS med student, because you cannot complete rotations without visiting there," is DJ's firm and sympathetic opinion, "Do you have a program you're really hoping to land in next?" The two long years since DJ's arrival show nowhere more clearly than here -- the just-finished works currently in the corner so much cleaner and more polished than his first laborious and halting one-armed attempts, a confidence now in his motions around even the saws and sanders that have claimed fingers off many a two-handed woodworker. Currently, dressed in his typical jeans and flannel and workboots, similar safety goggles on his eyes but an additional n95 covering his newly clean-shaven face, he is just returning from the more-or-less hand-safe drill press, where he's just been mortising the last section of wood that Lily measured. He brings the plank back over, carefully setting his fresh-cut one down beside hers and giving a satisfied nod when the measurements on the newer board line up neatly with the rough-cut square hole. He's taking off the mask as his gaze drifts thoughtfully over an assortment of chisels. His eyes go a little wider at the mention of coming to meeting, but his smile is definitely pleased. "I still go to the meetinghouse," he admits, a little bashful when he adds, "-- but the prayer meetings at my place after are kind of. Closing in on that in size. We'd be so glad to have you with us." Lily snorts, amused, though she is veeeeeery focused on comparing the two pieces, taking a moment longer to come to the same conclusion that DJ does. "Paediatrics at Bellevue, I think. I did the extra internships in internal and family medicine, but." But what? Lily's lips press together, head slightly bowed in a manner that is not just about looking at the wood. "My -- old training could help a lot of mutant kids, I figure. Family medicine second choice after that -- and maybe I could do that at Mendel, which would be great." There's an excitement running through all of this -- when Lily glances back at DJ there's a light, embarrassed pink in her cheeks. "But with my resume -- anywhere that will take me, in the city, would be fine." She hums thoughtfully at the meeting info. "I was thinking more -- your meetings, not the big one. How big --" Lily's brow furrows, "-- is your living room, then? I knew it was growing but --" She doesn't finish this thought, just lets the confusion of Living Room and That Size linger in the air. "That would be great." There's an unaffected hopefulness at this thought. "Families fly in from so far because there's nowhere else that will even try helping their kids. We could use good doctors there. I could put in a good word for you?" DJ moves to pick up the newly marked plank, though he isn't yet heading off to mortise it. "I've started only looking at AirBnBs with roof decks." He's blushing, a bit darker red. "Which I guess means you should pick a day with good weather, to show up. I --" He hesitates, sucking his cheeks inward to shew at them slowly. "I think word has been spreading among --" His brow knits uncertainly. "All the weirdos, now. The Church has really hurt a lot of..." It's here he catches himself with a much deeper darkening of his blush, head bowing and eyes flicking to Lily apologetically. "I just," he says softer, "mean that there's so many people who've been hungry for fellowship. It's hard to see the ways the Church has been pushing people away from Zion when we should be building it." "That would be great," Lily says, the growing flush in her cheeks at good doctors not stopping her from smiling at the offer. She steps aside for DJ to take the board, pressing one hand against the sawdust-covered work surface. When he looks to her, the smile has faded from her lips. "The Church has hurt lots of --us." There's no extra emphasis on the collective pronoun, the hesitation before it very brief. "But if you're filling up rooftops, now? Sounds like lots of those wounds could heal, too. Like they have been healing, from what you're saying each week." Her expression is neither hopeful nor doubtful, but somewhere in between. "Like it won't hurt just — being there." "I want to heal them." DJ's voice is still soft, though there's a new passion to this statement. "All the people who've been made to feel like they're too gay or too mutant to have a place in heaven, like the Kingdom is for married white men to gatekeep, like our Heavenly Parents need them to scrub away who they are in order to join Them --" He's forgotten the wood now entirely, his eyes a little bit wider, his hand turning up in front of him. "I feel like you've all finally helped me understand why I was given this world." Lily's gaze tracks from wood, to open hand, to DJ's face. Something in her demeanour is changing, an open door that was present just a second ago starting to pull closed in the press of her hand to the work surface, the new alert tension in her body. She speaks a few beats after his declaration, quiet but pointed in her question. "Given?" Possibly this pointed question or the subject matter should fluster DJ but for all his usual ready blushing the red has receded from his cheeks, now. "I was at war for years. I watched so many people I loved die horrible and senseless. And then right after we all get caught up in this trap where --" His right hand gestures towards the mechanical one, decorated today like innumerable tessellated feathers in shades of blue and mauve with black and white fringes. "I end up here -- a world that was evidently going to die if I left it -- my friends back, Hive back, I didn't know what --" His words have been coming just a little faster, here, just a little more intense, but about here he stops, shoulders wilting, voice quieting, something almost plaintive in his tone. "It wasn't exactly how I pictured the Kingdom but -- the D&C does say the Earth will only become the Celestial Kingdom after some work, right? I don't want to watch a second world tear itself apart, not if I can help bring it some peace." More silence. Lily's eyes have gone wide somewhere between trap and die if I left it, her gaze settling on the feathered arm. "I didn't know --" begins, dies in the air before what she didn't know (Hive? The arm? The reason DJ is here, haunting New York with her?) can be clarified. "Exaltation," comes out instead in a whisper, awed, fearful, and disbelieving all at once. "You think -- this is your planet? That you're a god?" She takes half a step backwards, hand lifting from the bench. There is a silence in the air after this question, DJ's eyes fixing for a long and thoughtful moment on his not-quite-sister. "What I know is that exaltation is what we're all meant for," he finally replies, soft and slow, "and what I think is that I was brought here for a reason. This world is in desperate need of healing. Isn't that what we study for? Pray for?" He's turning the plank of wood over between both hands, now, his fingers tracing slow against its grain. "What I hope is that I can find enough people willing to help repair it with me." Now Lily does turn away, if only to lean back against the worktable and brace herself against it with both hands. Her head tilts back to gaze upon the ceiling, perhaps seeking some guidance there or higher still. "I guess -- if he died -- since he died, then -- fucking Christ." She looks back at DJ, studying his expression. "That's what I prayed for, anyway. And -- " She pauses, searching for words. "I want to. Help. Still. Always." DJ's expression now only reflects that hope, wide and genuine in his eyes. He sets the plank back down carefully, his hand lifting to rest on Lily's shoulder with a small squeeze. "If there's one part of the next world I'm glad I pictured right, it's that eternal families are real." Lily has to tilt her head up to look DJ in the eye when he closes the distance between them. Slowly, hesitantly, Lily's far hand reaches across her chest to cover DJ's hand on her shoulder. Squeezes back even as her gaze drops away from her not-quite-brother, fixating on the uneven piles of carpentry in the back of the woodshop instead. "Eternal families," she repeats softly, voice tinged with wonder even as her eyes begin to water. "I -- should have had more faith."