fall from grace

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hozier asks

status: open! location: shore of northwood lake time: early afternoon

The golden hours are long gone for the year, like the leaves on the trees, but even without them Isabelle still finds beauty in the lake. Though it doesn’t glitter gold as if there’s a pirate hoard beneath anymore and gets chillier with each day that passes, she still sits on a particularly large rock and with her portable easel and paint set, capturing nature and perhaps adding something there that is a bit less… mundane. Randomly adding in the ghost bride to a landscape makes it instantly something she’d never show an Alby, but doesn’t mean no one will buy it. Edith has her fans.

Shoeless, her leg hangs over and is grazed by the chilly lapping water of the lake as she works, eyes intent and it’s almost like she’s holding her breath as she works. This is everything opposite of how Isabelle Ackermann is known around town, and only a handful of people have ever seen her so still and calm. Though the number grows as she delicately paints the detailing of a lace veil on her drowned ivory figure, this work particularly more of a close up of the lady. Though Isabelle’s never seen her, she imagines this is what she looks like, an Ophelia in white, floating on her back in the lake surrounded by flowers and beauty, peace in her face. She’s always liked Ophelia, barely thinking on it and distracting her enough that she looks around, thinking she heard steps on the sand around her. “Hello?” Curls bounce as she looks for the person she thinks she hears.

x

From the moment he had opened his eyes that morning, Malachai had known it would be a difficult day. The tension headache already building, the voice muttering half unintelligible sentences beside him (Shiloh doesn’t hear it, he had reminded himself a hundred times so far that day, clinging to that concrete fact), the way his whole body felt simultaneously too tight and too loose, as if it were made of a thin layer of elastic that had been stretched out to the breaking point then released. The text in to work took half his energy and he had to remind himself to be grateful as he sat there, staring at his coffee and doing his best to ignore the man grumbling on next to him. 

About an hour after that the tug began, a rope that tied itself around his ribcage and pulled him toward the lake. His parents had been so happy when he reached the year anniversary of not arriving there, no clue what he was doing, so he hadn’t bothered explaining that the urge was still constantly there. He just gave in before it grabbed hold of his brain and steered him as it wanted. Still, as upsetting as those occasions could be, he couldn’t deny that just being near the lake was calming. It sounded absurd when he tried to explain just how it worked; that it wasn’t as if the sound of the water lapping against the shore calmed his mind, it was as if someone stepped in between him and the rest of the world and kept it just a little at bay.

x

KJ did not match the laugh at his own quip, perhaps too preoccupied with trying to find a place to settle. He moved about in something of an uncertain jumble, resting a shoulder against a bit of brick before abruptly changing his mind. It was too close to a shelving unit, and his brain was promptly concocting a horror show, the thing toppling over, spilling out its contents. And it would be all his fault. So, turning and tucking his hands safely into his pockets, he opted to stand in the middle of the garage and lurk. His gaze shifted from Mal, to Shiloh, and then back again. But realizing how much he himself hated having his neck breathed down, he spun, pretending to study a poster on the wall. 

“Busy ain’t bad,” he said over his shoulder. “For the best. Been a shit show over there ever since Halloween. Real shame.” This came matter-of-factly, as close a person could make a potential crime scene investigation to a small talk topic. He pursed his lips, offering something of a sigh. “I just hope it all turns out okay, dude. Quiets down.” Still, KJ too seemed unwilling to linger on this subject too long; he barreled onward, turning back around once more. And with that, he crossed his arms, uncrossed them, tugged off his hat, and began playing with it in his hands.

“Uh, thanks. That makes sense. Thanks,” he replied with a nod. “Alby’s yacht took on some water last week, and the bilge pump didn’t so shit. Coulda been a whole Titanic thing.” He trailed off. “Had to go into the breaker.” See, I have fuses too. He shrugged at that, deciding that no, he was not trying to one up him. This was simply banter between mechanical professionals. Well, maybe. “I appreciate it. You do good work, man. Keep the old girl running. Dunno what I’d do without her.”

And that was true enough. As far as aquatic metaphors went, and those were KJ’s favorite, he’d end up a certain creek without a paddle should the truck finally fail on him. “It’s fine.” An understatement, all things considered. “Off. Sometimes, we get a fishing surge in the winter. You can get trout in some of the streams.” He clicked his tongue. “But…well, Alby don’t seem too keen on actual ice fishing. Liability. I think it’s an untapped market. Real old school Midwestern pastime.” His eyes fell on Shiloh. “People do it with their dogs. I’ve seen it. You just gotta let them…get their paws off it from time to time. Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “The bulbs are good, you said?” 

x

Hand steady on the small plastic tool, Mal set aside the defective fuel and slid the replacement into its place with a satisfying quiet click. There, it seemed to say. A problem solved, good job! A quick double check of the diagram doubled as doing his job and plausible deniability for avoiding any future Halloween conversation. It was strange to hear it talked about so casually, another reminder of the type of town they lived in, and just how much people can get used to. Were you there? Mal wanted to ask. What did you see? Are you okay? Are any of us, really?

Instead he tapped a quiet shave and a haircut on the lid of the fusebox after closing it, a little private ritual to mark moments in case they went forgotten or became subjects of anxiety later. Out of the corner of his eye he could see KJ fidgeting and shifting about the room as if he were uncomfortable. It felt odd to think of him as being nervous or discomfited at all, when in Mal’s mind KJ was largely made up of judgmental looks and a strong arm keeping him steady as he was pulled from the waters.

The thanks and change of subject came as a welcome relief and he grasped at it like a man seeing the sun for the first time in weeks. “I’d love to take a look at that boat sometime. Not really my area of expertise but it’s pretty impressive. I like figuring out what makes things tick.” As he spoke he settled down on his knees at the back of the truck and began the process of removing the retaining screws and lenses of the tail lights. “Happy to help. She’s pretty much a fixture at this point, I’d hate to be the one to let her down.”

Sometime close to midday, Lexi had set her mind to pass by the workshop to talk to Malachai. She’d forgotten for almost a whole week to get the drain fixed at her house and there was one person she knew she could count on. Yet, the issue was always pushed back, up ‘til the very last moment. Her fist came up to knock gently on the garage’s wall, hoping to get his attention… Only to stand there for a moment longer before he took notice. 

“Oh no, I was hoping to get the brakes fixed on my non-existent car,” She teased, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips as she leaned against the wall. Arms crossed over her chest, looking down at Shiloh as she stayed by her owner, all loyal as always. “Kidding. I was just hoping you’d have a moment to help with some more broken stuff at home.” 

x

At the teasing his face broke out into what passed for a grin these days, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Well, you know the usual. Double rate for non-existent cars, it’s hell to get the parts in on time.” As Mal spoke he began to gather up his things, relieved that this was at least a customer who wouldn’t make him stay late at the shop. His shoulders cracked a little as he rolled them, stretching out the stiffness of the day before tugging his jacket on and clipping Shiloh’s leash to her harness.

“Got my tools in the car, so unless you need something real specific we should be good.” He opened the back door and Shiloh hopped in, settling into her usual position. “Here, I’ll give you a ride, otherwise it’ll just be me hanging around out front while you trudge back in the cold.” He ducked into the drivers seat, usual routine starting to play out as he almost unconsciously checked every light, every positioning of every item before he was satisfied everything was as he left it.

He was right. She shouldnt be driving the car anymore. She already had it when they were still going out and now, in the very moment, it seemed like a rude reminder of how much time has passed and how much was broken now. A faint smile played on her lips as she nodded, turning the window of her car down so she could hear his directions and did as she was told, the process easy enough. The hard part came when the car came to a holt inside the garage, signalising very clearly that this was the moment she should get out and they should hold a conversation, or something that resembled one at least.

Pushing the car door open the brunette stepped out of the car unnatural conscious of her body and its movements, as if any wrong move could trigger something. “Really, no need to look at it again, I dont want you to work longer hours because of…!” Me? My car? nothing felt right and so she just shrugged. “I can just find walk, or catch a ride. You should go home, its late!” He wasnt a fragile child who needed to rest when grown ups told him to and she was as far away from a grown up as possible, if anything she behaved more like a rebellious teen now than she had when she was an actual teenager. When they still had each other. 

x

As much as he was constantly reminded not to fixate on the past, to consider what he does today rather than always comparing himself to who he was before, the little watchful teenage voice in the back of his mind decided to chime in as usual. It was one reason he preferred solitude so much now, it was in conversations that the differences really shone. He’d never had that teen anxiety, the crisis of identity, the struggle to find his place. He’d stepped into his role and stayed there, as constant as the sun in a solar system of hormones and drama. But now conversations were halting, uncertainties wormed their way in and settled in his bones.

“It’s okay,” he said, voice firmly gentle in a reproach against the bitter whining of his inner thoughts. “I can take a look tomorrow, see what’s going on and what I can get back up running again.” Mal looked at the car, his attention settling on River, the feeling of static electricity on his skin even at the distance between them. “It’s dark,” he continued before he even noticed what he was saying. “You shouldn’t be walking out there right now. I can give you a ride back. It’s no trouble.”

x

“Are you sure? I really don’t wanna, like, ruin your night, man.” As he said this, KJ tugged his cap snuggly back onto his head, perhaps out of a need to do something with his hands. To that end, he scratched idly at the back of his neck. “But I’d appreciate it, yeah. I mean, it’d really save my ass.” He nodded, lingering in place, and watched the young mechanic get ready to work. The guy was always shoving his hair about, KJ mused. It was an odd thing to notice, but in some ways, Mal had always struck him as the swaggering sort.

Yet, if it was an irritating overconfidence on a high schooler, it was now all the more curious on an adult. Perhaps it made KJ self-conscious. He had already seen beyond this veil, had glimpsed him at moments that may have been among his lowest: freezing, wet, ready to be consumed by Northwood Lake. Way back when, KJ may have even enjoyed catching Mr. All-American Know-it-All knocked down a peg. But he did not now. It was not quite pity, not quite empathy, but an awareness that the pair of them had been entangled in something larger and thus mutually exposed.

It made him feel awkward, though, over-aware of every little motion. And even if KJ knew he was awkward about most things, Mal did not know was that he had already, in his own way, returned a favor. The truck repairs, those few days following KJ’s own encounter with Gideon’s friend, had pulled the older man back from the brink. And while he now regarded the entity warmly, held it dearly to his chest, he had needed, at least in the week after the accident, for his vehicle to feel safe again. 

Still, he rolled his eyes, snorting. “Job security? What’s that? Maybe I should take notes. Be able to eat after August.” He shifted his weight on his heels, wiping at his nose. And content to end the conversation with that, he began to wander, speaking up only to break the new silence that had settled after a minute or two. “How you been anyway?”

x

Even sprawled uncomfortably, hip twisted to let his legs stay planted on the ground as he checked the blinkers, Mal felt a sense of surety he’d only been manufacturing before. Not quite the ‘man’s home is his castle’ he’d pictured years before: a big apartment, a cushy job, promotion after promotion. Instead he spent most of his time in a garage, the smell of oil and metal sharp and pronounced. But it was something, a little domain only intruded on by coworkers and customers. He laughed absentmindedly at KJ’s joke, only half-hearing it before stepping out and popping open the hood of the car.

In a silence the old him would have hated, he flipped open the fuse box and sorted through the patterns there, fingers dancing lightly across numbers before landing on the one he needed. “Hmm?” The focus which had overtaken him faded at the sound of the other man’s voice and he glanced up, waiting for his brain to catch up with his ears. “I’ve been good. Keeping busy. Staying away from...you know.” He shifted uncomfortably, mind flashing to what he had heard of the events of Halloween. Shiloh stood from where she had been sitting patiently and leaned hard against his leg, the pressure grounding him in the here and now.

Clearing his throat he attempted to change the subject by gesturing vaguely down into the car. Procedures and steps, the eternal safe haven. “It’s just a problem with one of your fuses so I’m going to swap that out for you. Probably not the bulbs because they don’t usually burn out at the same time, but I’ll give them a quick look too, just in case.” In general he found that most people didn’t care the details of what was actually going on in their car as long as it got fixed quickly and cheaply, but KJ seemed the type to care about the practicalities. Mal could respect that.

Turning to focus on locating the right replacement fuse, he raised his voice enough to be heard. “What about you? How’s the off-season going?”

x

Kenneth Joseph Wake had been driving the same shoddy blue pickup truck for nearly fifteen years, and his father had driven it for fifteen more. As a young teenager, KJ himself had helped attach a chain to its bumper and pulled his family’s sunken speedboat from the depths of Northwood Lake. And with that sorry inheritance destroyed, the vehicle, then, became his only birthright. It carried the scars of Pleasance’s streets, of potholes, and winter storms, and overzealous tugging. One particular dent on the front owed itself to the man veering into a snowbank several years prior. On that particular night. Still, the thing ran, and if KJ could help it, it would run another thirty years. So one day he could be given a proper Viking funeral in its driver seat.

He hopped out of it with something of a grunt as he boots hit the pavement. And seeing the young mechanic, he swallowed hard, cracking his jaw. But Malachai’s presence had a way of making him seize up. On one hand, perhaps he had not been overly nice to the guy in high school. And well, plucking someone out of the lake like that, it made warmth or even nonchalance, a challenge. 

“I figured I was cutting it close,” he sighed, pulling off his baseball cap to smooth down his hair. He looked up to meet the guy’s eye with a guff nod. “Blinker’s out. I had to, like, stick my arm out the window the whole way here. I can come back tomorrow, though.” His eye shifted to Shiloh and then back to her owner.

“Boats don’t have blinkers.” This came as something of a non-sequitur, but KJ perhaps felt the need to speak in his own defense. He knew his way around an engine, of course. Could tinker with the best of them. But well, he did not need any more traffic tickets.

x

He recognized the truck before its driver: blue, clanking, and still bearing the scars of a dozen incidents, some of which he himself had been the doctor on call to pull it back to life from. There were a lot of old cars in this town, maybe it was like the ghosts in that no one in this town knew how to let go of anything. Not a car, not a shitty old lamp, not a woman howling in the wind. When you got something new in Pleasance, it would eventually become something old and old things tended to stick around forever. But the older something got, the more problems it had, the more interesting the challenge to fix. And this truck was one of Malachai’s favorite challenges.

The actual driver of the vehicle was something Mal was a little more conflicted about. He knew he should be grateful to this man, who had more than once stepped up at the lakeshore, who was - for all Mal knew - the only reason he had come home from the lake safely each time. And he was, he really was. But there’s a kind of vulnerability you can only get with someone who finds you small and shaking and completely out of it in the water, a certain kind of fragility that no one quite forgets. Mal would do a fucking lot for some people to forget the last ten years of his life.

“No, no, it’s all good,” he said, shrugging off his jacket and ignoring the cold that instantly grasped at his bare arms. “Blinker’s a pretty fast fix depending on what the problem is and then I can clock in for overtime anyway.” Bright smile, brush aside shaggy curls, walk with confidence. Half of being okay was showing it to other people, and there were few people he needed to show his okay-ness to as much as KJ. 

 At the off-hand comment he glanced out of the corner of his eye, purposeful smile fading into something a little more genuine, more of actual amusement. “Good thing for me, I guess. Every difference between a boat and a car is a little more job security for me.” Leaning inside the truck he fiddled with the turn signal button, humming under his breath.

the town was growing on her.  pleasance had always been an elusive shadow looming in the distance of her mother’s past.  walking the streets her family had, generations before her ( and where her father may very well still be frequenting ) neve felt an undeniable sense of nostalgia and belonging, a gravitational pull towards the aged brickwork, the quiet townsfolk—- the haunting tranquility of the lake.  the brunette felt like she was just a piece in a jumbled jigsaw puzzle, hoping she would find the answers in the streets of pleasance, but if anything, she had found only more questions.

long walks helped her clear her mind and explore the town both, a small skip in her step as she headed toward dutch’s bar, ready to destroy the patriarchy one pool game at a time.  her scheming bets had already won her over $300, and though neve knew the men at the bar would soon see through her femme fatal act, but that was an issue for another day.  for now she would continue to play the innocent vulnerable girl, complete with a sugar lolly-pop.

the dog distracted her, sending her tough girl act crumbling as impulse took over.  oh my god.  she rushed over the road into the open garage, falling to her knees in an instant, arms out towards the dog.  ❛ hi girl! hi!  ❜ she mused, not noticing the worker until he spoke.  ❛ oh sorry, actually I got distracted by your dog…. I don’t even have a car… ❜ her words trailed off slightly, gazing at the stranger for a moment.  his face seemed oddly familiar, as if from a distant dream or a memory, though she was certain they had not met before.  ❛ she’s um.. what’s her name? ❜ 

x

Otto’s was quiet most of the time, customers largely repeat ones, and very rare were complete strangers just running into the garage and dropping on the ground. It was some of what was so nice about the job: a mind-numbing tedium which provided structure to every day. So this was entirely out of the ordinary. For a second Malachai opened his mouth as if to greet her by name, as if she were someone he’d known all his life, before shutting it with a brief frown of confusion. For all that she felt familiar, he was certain that he had never seen her in his life.

The feeling only intensified when they made eye contact and he stood there like a deer in the headlights, just staring at her before a nudge from Shiloh pulled him back into himself. “Well, uh, welcome to Otto’s anyway I guess,” he said, passing off his awkwardness with a slight laugh. “This is Shiloh, she’s on-duty right now so don’t- you know, distract her or anything.” For the life of him he didn’t know why he said what he said next, only that for some reason he didn’t want to shut this conversation down and leave like he usually did when he was thrown like this. “I’m just closing up though and then she’s getting her walk, I’m sure she’d be happy to spend time with someone new then. If you wanted to stick around or...”

As if he were finally hearing the words coming out of his own mouth he paused and rolled his eyes. “Just ignore me. I know it sounds like I’ve never talked to another person before but I swear it’s just been a long day. I’m Malachai.”  

Oh she tried to avoid this. Really tried to avoid this. Though with shifts at the bar and..well with shifts at the bar there seemed to be a limited time during the day that she had to even think about the fact that her car has been an absolute nightmare lately - but today, with it failing on her twice there was no real way around it, was it? And really, the garage was about to close so what was the chance he’d still be there? She’d probably just leave her car with Otto and hopefully pick it up very, very soon. 

His voice greeted her like a familiar song and yet the only thing it made her feel was dread. Pent up feelings, or memories seemed to be the kind of thing that was hard to ignore and she was immediately walking back towards her car, only answering over her shoulder, as if he’d not recognise her voice - or her silhouette. “Dont even worry, nothing too important, I’ll just come back whenever…:!” Whenever you’re not around? Not a good way to end the sentence but also so clearly what was hanging in the air. The brunette was already back in her car, turning the engine on only for it to - just not turn on. Not turning on over and over again. Well, there was the reason why she came here in the first place. 

“I mean, guess you do need to help me out. Or drive me home - or ignore that and I’ll just get a cab or something. Honestly, forget I even said that, I’ll just leave the car here and you’ll tell Otto to look at it, okay?” She barely looked at him, thats what years of avoidance did, one gets used to eyes looking just past someone while her own body has gotten slim enough to maybe just be overseen. “Just enjoy your night!” 

x

At the sound of her voice he paused, brow furrowing in equal measures of confusion, irritation, and shame. Malachai opened his mouth to reply but before he could even speak he saw her outline duck back into the car for a long few seconds. Hand resting on Shiloh’s harness, he stepped a little closer, peering out through the darkness at her. It was probably fucked up that after nearly a decade her presence still had this much of an emotional effect on him, made him feel guilty and judged and nervous.

As she stepped back out he forced a smile on to his face, small and weak but somewhat honest. “Even if it were starting you probably shouldn’t drive in that thing.” An attempt at a joke, at a sense of normalcy. An olive branch extended out into the twilight. “Here, let’s get it in the garage. You stay in and steer, I’ll give it a push.”

This was the kind of thing that had kept him going the past few years. A simple task with basic steps and a goal at the end. Something achievable and practical. He walked forward and got in position behind the car, bracing against the metal and preparing to push. “Shift into neutral and steer for me, yeah?”

It was dark by the time Otto’s began to close down for the night, a cool breeze filling the air and filling the garage. It had been a long day, a long couple of weeks for the town, and more than anything Malachai wanted to go home. Everything was going to shit once again in Pleasance and he could not engage with it. Instead, he focused on the simple things. Leftover soup in the fridge, podcast episodes downloaded and ready to go, and enough money in his budget to turn the heat up a bit: all the components of a perfectly mediocre and ordinary night. 

No cars had been in for a while and he had begun closing up, making sure all tools were cleaned and put away, sweeping the floor to catch any nuts and bolts that had fallen. His music was blaring in his ears, drowning out the sound of the night outside and it was only when Shiloh padded up and leaned against his leg that he realized anyone had arrived. “Hey, sorry,” he called out, holding up one finger to signal wait as he unplugged his headphones. Wrapping the cord, he turned, brushing his curls away from his eyes. “We’re about ready to close but let me know if there’s anything in particular you need help with and I’ll see what I can do.” Shiloh followed him as he approached to greet the new arrival, wagging her tail slightly as she stayed in heel position.