[OPEN] let the year and its curses conclude

[tehilim127_1]

Who: Zivia (tehilim127_1) & all comers
What: Autumn and the High Holidays
When: Late September through October
Where: All over
Warning(s): To be added as relevant

1. closing the year

Early in September and Elul, Zivia wrote a letter.

A few days later, the Visitors' Center went up, and among the visitors were two of Zivia's dead. No one else was present for her conversation with one of them.

The next week, she went to a certain shady merchant, grimly determined to speak to him about procuring certain items and to pay whatever he asked. She did not expect him to already have them on hand, nor to insist on giving them to her without payment. Perhaps that should have felt like divine providence of some kind; for some reason it did not make her feel any more certain that she was doing the right thing. Nonetheless, she brought the items home and sent word to Anzu and Lyubov that she had, baruch Hashem, acquired a shofar and a lulav -- with accompanying willow and myrtle twigs but not, unfortunately, with an etrog. Which meant pinning their hopes on the Paradesium expedition. (Where they were to begin with, so that's all right.)

During the last week of September, Zivia went out to the old Starr farm to gather a basket of apples and some honeycomb from the hives; talked to Captain Dominguez of the Limoncello and gave him a long and detailed list of requests, heavily featuring kosher meats and cheeses, to be compensated in all the citrus fruit she can carry when the expedition returns; talked to various people at City Hall about the time off work she would need in the coming month; found a source in town for canvas sheets and wooden beams; and put up a notice on the town bulletin board: Help Wanted with Minor (Temporary) Construction Project.

(She also kept her ears open for the general mood of the town in the wake of Dahlia Leeds' party and its shocking revelations. Any angry talk that grew vicious, she did her best to quietly defuse; any fearful talk that verged on panic, she did her best to subtly soothe. She knows too well that this could easily get ugly, in ways that could be much harder to fix than to prevent.)

It's now the first week of October, the last week of Elul. Zivia can be found at home whenever she's not at work, either working on the mysterious construction project or seemingly endless baking: cakes, cookies, tarts, a half-dozen round braided breads. She'll happily explain what's up with all of this, should anyone ask.

[Tag Zivia here for anything in late September or pre-holidays October, including if you want to help with the construction or talk about last month's events!]

2. days of awe, days of joy

And then it's second week of October, the first week of Tishrei.

Rosh Hashanah: two days of feasting and prayer, bringing in the New Year, beginning the Ten Days of Repentance. Lyubov blows the shofar at their little communal prayer services, where they say what parts of the liturgy they can without a full quorum of ten, and maybe a little more besides. They each host meals, with the round challahs and the apples and honey (from the Starr farm and from Angel's gift) and other traditional symbolic foods; Zivia is particularly thankful that they've been able to get pomegranate. Cecil Palmer is invited, and Hawkeye Pierce, and anyone else who's shown interest in participating in Jewish traditions.

Ten days later, Yom Kippur: fasting and prayer and atonement for sins. Again the little prayer group congregates, and Zivia recites the familiar words through an unexpected struggle with tears. Do not cast us away, Lord our God, do not distance Yourself from us --
(She still doesn't know if trying to speak to the local goddesses is something for which she should be asking forgiveness. She doesn't know who to talk to about that, or how.)

Five days later, Sukkot: a week of feasting and celebration, with festive meals in the completed sukkah. If you've befriended Zivia, or if you work with her, or if you answered the bulletin board request to help build the thing, or even if you're just passing by and want to know what the deal is with the weird little structure with canvas walls and a roof of Paradesium greenery, you will get an invitation to come hang out. Inside it's decorated with ribbons and paper chains and fruit (including tiny gourds) and colorful fall leaves, and there are snacks and both cold and hot drinks and occasionally a friendly cat winding around people's ankles, and at the slightest provocation there will be stories and anecdotes about the holiday. You've been warned.

At the end of that week, Simchat Torah: the last of the holidays and in some ways the hardest to observe in their current circumstances. No Torah scroll has shown up at Calloway's, so the best they can do is read from Lyubov's chumash, the end of the final chapter and then the start of the first, beginning the cycle again. There's too few of them to dance properly, but they can and do sing.

[Tag here for religious holiday celebrations if your character would have been at any of them, or for hanging out less formally in the sukkah!]

3. back to the everyday

And then, as every year, the holidays are over. Time for taking down the sukkah, putting away the components in case they need to be reused next year, carefully storing the shofar wrapped in cotton in the china cabinet, planning future meals around frozen leftovers: an end to the celebrating of life and a return to living it.

For the rest of October Zivia is back to her usual routine. Find her at work, or shopping downtown, or having a drink down at the Oak & Iron on occasional evenings -- or, once in a while, taking a walk on the beach while it's still warm enough to do that.

[Tag here for after the holidays, at any of the named locations or your choice of wildcard!]

Comments

1, construction project

[saltwaterlungs]

October is coming around, which means Autumn and then Winter to follow. Another year away from the world he grew up in, another year of weird ridiculous magic bullshit (he knew you can't trust rich people, and is only mutedly glad that he and Phil didn't make the Leeds party). But nerves around things getting colder again means that Darcy is more busy than usual- and looking for ways to get his nerves out. So, construction.

Despite being a butch, Darcy hasn't really had all that much experience with this sort of thing, and takes very close instructions from Zivia on what he's doing. Weirdly gender affirming though, and the thought passes his mind as Zivia passes the cookies that he oughta ask Phil if he still wants help with building the deck.

"Thanks-" he gives a little nod as he takes one of the cookies, "it's ehn... nice to see other people still kind of. Doing their thing, even here, ehn. Religiously I mean."

[tehilim127_1]

"Oh, sure," says Zivia comfortably, "I gotta do my thing wherever I am. But yeah, it's nice that we can. Folks here have been really understanding about it all."

[saltwaterlungs]

"I was kind of worried they wouldn't be. I mean- I wouldn't give a shit anyway," they're already halfway to a martyr, they'd go the whole distance if needed, he gestures with the cookie, "but it's good that nobody's like... 'blah blah, there's Goddesses here, you have to go be nice to them'. I mean- my dad is, but he's not Catholic, he's allowed if he wants."

[tehilim127_1]

"Yeah, it's ... I wasn't sure at first, you know?" She takes a cookie for herself. "It helped that there were a few already here. Anzu and Lyubov, I don't know if you know them? They had a kosher table at the potluck, the week I got here, and seeing that helped a lot."

2

[notinflictthem]

Every time he gets an invitation, Hawkeye remains surprised. Pleasantly, but surprised. Maybe eventually he'll stop feeling like a humoured second-cousin who only ever shows up at the family reunion for the food, but for now, as with everything, he will just have to fake it.

Hawk shows up for the Rosh Hashanah service in a different suit than usual- the last holiday he was there for, he was half-dressed in whatever he threw on to escape from the flood. The irony of which wasn't lost on him at the time. But for this one, he's in a suit that's far more subdued than his regular number. He's even shaved and combed his hair. Which is in itself half a miracle, considering the news from Fever and Mulcahy.

Rosh Hashanah is a delight- apples and honey, a perfect combination that he enjoys thoroughly- and then Yom Kippur is by its nature significantly less of a delight, but Hawk fasts and goes through the motions of prayer along with the rest of them, even if it requires a little rehearsal beforehand. It's part of the holiday. You don't celebrate the secular New Years without excessive drinking, so he can't not participate when he's offered to. Who knows if the prayers do anything, but the sense of community for the whole thing is a real balm. Even if Fever's murdered some insane amount of people and there was some other version of him that died because Mulcahy didn't love him, or something like that, he can focus on the flesh and blood people around him. Judging by how Zivia gets through Yom Kippur, they're all carrying something.

But then they get to Sukkot, and Hawk makes a note to ask Zivia to praise God for how many of their celebrations involve feasting. He arrives at the shelter and goes 'knock knock' aloud on the canvas, grinning widely.

"I just love what you've done with the place," he affects like a cosmopolitan interior designer, "I think I saw this in Gardens and More Gardens."

[tehilim127_1]

"Willkommen, bienvenue, welcome, c'mon in," Zivia calls out cheerfully at the spoken knock, recognizing the voice -- by accent as much as anything else.

"You like it? I'm going for classic preindustrial. Zero plastic."

[notinflictthem]

"Hwanyeong and kangei to you too," he offers in return in his terrible accent, unknowingly mangling both and ignorant of all the references involved.

Plastic piques his interest a little- what in there could even be made of bakelite?- but he figures he shouldn't think too hard about what's clearly a joke.

"It's fantastic. Can't wait for autumn to really come around, then we can see the model in other colours."

He's just blatantly going for the baked goods.

"You been keeping alright, Ziv?"

[tehilim127_1]

That's what the baked goods are there for!

"Yeah, I'm good." Her smile is sincere, even if there is a touch of despite everything in it. "I always say this time of year, it's a good thing I like cooking. And bless Captain Dominguez, I've got a lot of ingredients from home I've been missing. How about you, you doing okay?"

:3

[preacher_in_reticence]

It is not the first night of Sukkot, or even the second. But the third, the third afternoon Degas shows up with a carefully prepared pumpkin bread and an uncertain smile, entering the sukkah and waiting for Zivia to be free so he can offer it over.

[tehilim127_1]

As luck would have it, she's alone in the sukkah at this particular moment, sitting with a book and a faintly unfocused expression that suggests she's thinking rather than actually reading it.

When he steps in, she looks up in startlement that rapidly turns to a smile. "Hi! Welcome."

[preacher_in_reticence]

"Hi." He hasn't caught her one-on-one, he hasn't talked to her in depth since meeting her loved ones. Which is complicated emotions for him. But that's part of why he's here, right? Just...part.

The rest is offering over this bread.

"Here. It's...pareve? Or, well. I know my kitchen isn't fully prepared, but I didn't want to show up empty handed."

[tehilim127_1]

She sets aside her book, and reaches to take the pumpkin bread with another smile. "Thank you. Oh, it smells delicious."

There are several other chairs in the sukkah -- the same sturdy set that are usually around her dining room table. She gestures to them as she moves to set the bread down next to the plates of cookies and fruit, crackers and dip. "Have a seat?"

[lasthumanvoice]

Cecil is delighted and touched to be invited to Rosh Hashanah. The clever man from a city of fools shows up in his second-best suit and a hand-sewn patchwork yarmulke that seems to have eyes embroidered on it. There is, however, an impish look on his face as he helps set the table, as he waits for the perfect moment to drop a line on Zivia.

"So. Why is this night different from all other nights?" It is impossible to tell, at least at first, if he seriously believes that question goes with this holiday.

[tehilim127_1]

The impish look on his face makes her assume, at least at first, that he's joking. It's the kind of joke she might make herself, and she grins at it.

"Well, on all other nights we put salt on our challah, and tonight we're putting honey," she starts. "Though we're gonna keep doing that through to Simchat Torah."

[lasthumanvoice]

The impishness gives way to a genuine mild confusion. "Oh, is that why the guy with the three-mile island stare gave me a jar of honey? I thought he was trying to flirt or something."

[tehilim127_1]

"It could have been both," she points out. Cheerfully.

[graveling]

It's while Zivia is setting up the sukkah that Angel shows up. Not immediately to help, but because there's a pressure at the edge of his awareness, a something coming to be. Perhaps like the sinus headache some people experience right before a storm? But one that comes when the land is parched, desperate for rain.

The metaphor escapes him. He lurks at the edge of the site, watching.

[tehilim127_1]

Zivia doesn't spot him immediately -- she's mostly working inside the enclosure -- but while coming out, carrying a tall folding stepladder awkwardly under one arm, she catches sight of him, and waves.

"Angel? Hi. Nice to see you, I wanted to thank you for the honey."

[graveling]

"You're welcome, and you are welcome." He inclines his head, not quite smiling, but implying the same sort of thing. "If you need lifting, I can be really strong, for a little at a time."

days of awe, days of joy

[lovethyneighb_or]

Mulcahy does not deny help when called upon, of course, especially for one of his friends. He contributes what he can to the construction--mostly the strength of his labor. He's had very little reason to practice his craftsmanship, sorry to betray the faithful carpenters of the world.

Then an invitation for the Sukkot.

He does not want to go.

It's nothing to do with any of this and everything to do with him. Company is something he desperately wishes for as much as it's begun to repulse him. He's been such a mess lately, never quite in his own head, and the thought of anyone seeing him more than just in passing or behind someone else, it is shameful. The thought of anyone asking if he's alright is mortifying. He has no comforting answers. No one wants someone like him at a party, nevermind such a sacred celebration.

But it is Zivia, and it is the high holidays, and he is very good at pretending, so he goes.

He doesn't have a clue what foods may or may not be appropriate to bring, but the idea of showing up empty-handed is against the nature of his soul, so he prepares a small bundle of hard cheeses for Zivia to enjoy whenever she pleases and wraps it in paper and twine. When he arrives, he does so slowly, trying to take stock of who is there. He politely fields a few greetings, but removes himself before anyone can talk for too long. Peter floats at his side and gets distracted with the cat.

Mulcahy approaches her with a smile. "Zivia, it's good to see you. It's such a lovely thing you've done here."

[tehilim127_1]

"Good to see you too! I'm so glad you came."

And that's as far as she'll go this time; after a certain point, she knows perfectly well, the expectation of hearing we never see you anymore! becomes a dread, and more of a deterrent to socializing than anything else.

"Care for tea? Or lemonade? I don't mind telling you, I've missed having fresh lemons."

[lovethyneighb_or]

Thank goodness she hasn’t commented on his relative absence. Hopefully she hasn’t really noticed, or if she has, she understands.

“Oh, I’ve felt much the same. I believe Captain Dominiguez’ ship was the first time in many years that I’ve had citrus that was both real and fresh. That is to say, I would love some lemonade.”

He hesitates for a moment, then lifts the package in his hands. “I’m not familiar with the food customs of this, but I didn’t feel right coming empty-handed, so—this is for you, Zivia. It’s a few of my favorite cheeses.”

1. construction

[upshore]

Miles has been feeling a bit at loose ends since Dahlia's party and his Walrider reveal and...other things, so when he sees the opportunity to make himself useful, he jumps at the chance. Also, free cookies. The college student in him will never pass up free food. (This has gotten him into awkward situations in the past.)

He shows up bright and early, and waves. "Hey," he says to Zivia. "Hope I can be useful. Fewer fingers overall means fewer that I can smack with a hammer by accident."

[tehilim127_1]

"Absolutely," she tells him, beaming. "You're ... Miles, right? I don't think we've ever properly met. I'm Zivia, and the project here is to turn all these boards and beams into an outline of a big cube."

(Somewhere in there her eyes flicked down to his hands, noted the fewer fingers mention, and came right back up to his face.)

[upshore]

"Mm-hmm, that's me, Miles Upshur, local ne'er-do-well and journalist," Miles says cheerfully. He's used to people looking at his hands these days; the glance barely registers, especially since he's the one who brought it up.

"Big cube, huh? Sounds so easy even I can do it. I am not a handy man. Wasn't even before The Incident." Joking is how we cover up trauma!!

Then he looks thoughtful. He knows Zivia is Jewish, he's vaguely familiar with the calendar, it's starting to be autumn...

"Are you building this just for fun, or is it a sukkah? Crap, did I say that right?"