Dominick "Sonny" Carisi, Jr. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ottimismo) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sixthiterationlogs2017-01-17 04:53 pm
ottimismo) wrote in sixthiterationlogs2017-01-17 04:53 pm
002 ✝ in the end only kindness matters
WHO: Sonny Carisi
WHERE: The Fountain, the Inn, House Number 7, House Number 24 (the Church-in-progress), and in-between
WHEN: January 17th
OPEN TO: Everyone!
WARNINGS: Religion? Will update as needed.
STATUS: Open!
The Fountain
It's night time. Or, at least, it's supposed to be, the previous day creeping into the new one. Normally, it would be so dark that he could see the stars. (He's never been able to see the stars before, not in New York. There's too many city lights, and he's never really thought about it before. But now he thinks about it a lot. Now, he spends a lot of time looking at them when they're out.) Normally it would be dark and starry, but lately it's been the opposite. Lately, the sky has been so bright with the aurora lights that it seems like daytime all the time.
It's strange. It probably means something, and it's not necessarily something good. But he doesn't care. He's sort of enjoying it.
Of course, it's not the same thing as the neon lights of New York City. It's not even close. But he's been enjoying it. Most people, he's noticed, have only seen it as a hindrance. Getting a good night's sleep isn't easy when there's light pouring through every window. Sonny, though, always trying to find the silver lining in everything, finds them to be pretty and calming.
Maybe a sign from God. But even he doubts that.
Still, he's enjoying the night, despite how day-like it is. Tonight, he's sitting on the edge of the fountain, wrapped in a thick extreme weather blanket, a cup of hot, bitter tea between his hands. For once, he's quiet, looking at the lights in the sky.
The Inn
Eventually, Sonny turns in for the night, grateful for the blackout curtains he received as a Christmas gift. But when he wakes up, it's to a plain brown box with his name on the tag. And inside? The ingredients for a good batch of cookies, with some milk to go along with it.
So for the first time in quite awhile, Sonny chooses not to leave the house that morning. Instead, he stays in and bakes cookies. He gets a good two batches out of the ingredients, two dozen cookies in all. They're not as good as his cookies normally are, lacking some of the special ingredients he likes to toss into his own recipe. And truthfully, the ingredients probably could've been used for something else, something a little more useful than cookies. But everyone needs that kind of comfort food every once and a while.
Maybe a little more often, in a place like this.
He makes the cookies and wraps them up, taking them and the milk with him when he finally leaves for the Inn around mid-morning. He steps inside, into the warmth, and kicks some of the snow off his feet to keep from tracking it inside.
"Morning!" His greeting is cheerful and directed towards anybody that happens to be inside. "Anybody want some cookies?"
Houses Number 7 & 24, and the Path In-between
Later on in the afternoon, once it's warmed up a tiny bit (though not enough to make a real difference), Sonny's out and about again. And this time, he's working.
He's not doing his old job. He's not really doing a job at all, at least not one he's getting paid for. But this is different. It's for a bigger cause. A cause that's much bigger than him. He used to want to be a priest, when he was younger, but was never called upon by God to do it. Somehow, though, he's found another way to serve God. Maybe this has always been his calling, and it took this situation for him to realize it.
It's not easy. Not that he ever expected it to be.
The morning is spent rearranging the furniture in house number 24. A house he was told was lived in by a man who had planned on creating a church himself, but has since disappeared. (Something he finds very concerning, but hasn't really had time to look into.) The man hadn't gotten very far — just a makeshift cross, half-ready to be displayed. That's set aside for the time being — he'll finish it later. First, he wants to clear out the living room and get some places to sit in there. So he rearranges the couch and some armchairs, and brings in the dining chairs from the kitchen, lining them all up.
It's not enough sitting room. He doesn't want to take any of the furniture from the empty houses, just in case they get more people and the houses are needed. So instead, he retrieves chairs from the only other place he knows of — his own house.
It's not like he has much need for them. He hardly spends any time in his own home, and when he is there, it's usually just to sleep. So one by one, he begins to haul the dining room chairs from his own home, to the one that's going to be the town's church. It's a little harder than he would've anticipated. He's pretty sure he won't even be able to do the arm chairs by himself. And he definitely can't get the couch by himself.
But he'll deal with that when he gets to it.
WHERE: The Fountain, the Inn, House Number 7, House Number 24 (the Church-in-progress), and in-between
WHEN: January 17th
OPEN TO: Everyone!
WARNINGS: Religion? Will update as needed.
STATUS: Open!
The Fountain
It's night time. Or, at least, it's supposed to be, the previous day creeping into the new one. Normally, it would be so dark that he could see the stars. (He's never been able to see the stars before, not in New York. There's too many city lights, and he's never really thought about it before. But now he thinks about it a lot. Now, he spends a lot of time looking at them when they're out.) Normally it would be dark and starry, but lately it's been the opposite. Lately, the sky has been so bright with the aurora lights that it seems like daytime all the time.
It's strange. It probably means something, and it's not necessarily something good. But he doesn't care. He's sort of enjoying it.
Of course, it's not the same thing as the neon lights of New York City. It's not even close. But he's been enjoying it. Most people, he's noticed, have only seen it as a hindrance. Getting a good night's sleep isn't easy when there's light pouring through every window. Sonny, though, always trying to find the silver lining in everything, finds them to be pretty and calming.
Maybe a sign from God. But even he doubts that.
Still, he's enjoying the night, despite how day-like it is. Tonight, he's sitting on the edge of the fountain, wrapped in a thick extreme weather blanket, a cup of hot, bitter tea between his hands. For once, he's quiet, looking at the lights in the sky.
The Inn
Eventually, Sonny turns in for the night, grateful for the blackout curtains he received as a Christmas gift. But when he wakes up, it's to a plain brown box with his name on the tag. And inside? The ingredients for a good batch of cookies, with some milk to go along with it.
So for the first time in quite awhile, Sonny chooses not to leave the house that morning. Instead, he stays in and bakes cookies. He gets a good two batches out of the ingredients, two dozen cookies in all. They're not as good as his cookies normally are, lacking some of the special ingredients he likes to toss into his own recipe. And truthfully, the ingredients probably could've been used for something else, something a little more useful than cookies. But everyone needs that kind of comfort food every once and a while.
Maybe a little more often, in a place like this.
He makes the cookies and wraps them up, taking them and the milk with him when he finally leaves for the Inn around mid-morning. He steps inside, into the warmth, and kicks some of the snow off his feet to keep from tracking it inside.
"Morning!" His greeting is cheerful and directed towards anybody that happens to be inside. "Anybody want some cookies?"
Houses Number 7 & 24, and the Path In-between
Later on in the afternoon, once it's warmed up a tiny bit (though not enough to make a real difference), Sonny's out and about again. And this time, he's working.
He's not doing his old job. He's not really doing a job at all, at least not one he's getting paid for. But this is different. It's for a bigger cause. A cause that's much bigger than him. He used to want to be a priest, when he was younger, but was never called upon by God to do it. Somehow, though, he's found another way to serve God. Maybe this has always been his calling, and it took this situation for him to realize it.
It's not easy. Not that he ever expected it to be.
The morning is spent rearranging the furniture in house number 24. A house he was told was lived in by a man who had planned on creating a church himself, but has since disappeared. (Something he finds very concerning, but hasn't really had time to look into.) The man hadn't gotten very far — just a makeshift cross, half-ready to be displayed. That's set aside for the time being — he'll finish it later. First, he wants to clear out the living room and get some places to sit in there. So he rearranges the couch and some armchairs, and brings in the dining chairs from the kitchen, lining them all up.
It's not enough sitting room. He doesn't want to take any of the furniture from the empty houses, just in case they get more people and the houses are needed. So instead, he retrieves chairs from the only other place he knows of — his own house.
It's not like he has much need for them. He hardly spends any time in his own home, and when he is there, it's usually just to sleep. So one by one, he begins to haul the dining room chairs from his own home, to the one that's going to be the town's church. It's a little harder than he would've anticipated. He's pretty sure he won't even be able to do the arm chairs by himself. And he definitely can't get the couch by himself.
But he'll deal with that when he gets to it.
no subject
"Tell me about it. I'm from New York too actually...though when I got back from my tours I moved to the DC area. Family's still there though, so I visit." Sam glanced up, watching the lights. "This is different though...we can't layer properly and even when you go inside you aren't really escaping the cold."
no subject
He likes meeting other people from New York. It makes him wonder if he ever saw them before, back at home. Walked by them on the street, stood behind them in line for questionable street vendor hot dogs. Probably not — New York's huge. But it gives him a little bit of comfort, for some reason.
"That's it," he says. "The layers. That's why I can't get my chill out of bones. Even when I'm sitting in front of the fire for hours."
no subject
"It must be nice to be near family," he observed. He'd certainly been thinking about his family more that he was here. It was sad really, one of those things you took for granted. "I mean, I moved out of the city, but it wasn't like I wasn't calling my mom on a regular basis. Mostly cause if I didn't I'd get an earful. I can only imagine how much I'm going to hear about this whenever we manage to get out of this." It probably isn't the conversation Sonny wants to be having, but it's what is on Sam's mind and he lets it spill out into the air before he can really stop himself.
no subject
He misses Starbucks. It seems like such a silly, insignificant thing to miss in a situation like this, but sometimes all he can think about is the instant gratification of it and laughing at how they spelled his name wrong on the cup. He didn't know there were so many ways to misspell Sonny.
He laughs softly, but it doesn't sound bitter. Just a little bit sad, maybe. "I've missed like, a month worth of Sunday churches and Friday lunches. My ma's gonna have a cow when she gets a hold of me."
And honestly, he can't wait for it.
no subject
Yeah, Sam had definitely been here far too long for his own good. He shook his head in amusement, because this was probably not a conversation to have right now and yet what else were they supposed to talk about.
"May we both survive the wrath of our mothers then."
no subject
It's easier to miss the little things and the annoying things than it is to miss the big things. Like Amanda and his sisters and his parents.
"I might be more afraid of my sisters," he says thoughtfully. "They're like my mother but they move faster."
no subject
"I guess if we're going to have long, somewhat depressing conversations with a light show I should at least give you a name," he said, changing the topic. "Especially since it sounds like we have similarities...I've got a sister and a brother back home."
Sam held out a hand, it seemed weird since they'd been talking for a few minutes now and had been sharing a blanket; however, it seemed weirder to continue talking and not give a name. "Sam Wilson."
no subject
Sonny untangles his own hand from the blankets to give Sam's a firm shake. "Sonny Carisi. Nice to meet you, even under the circumstances."
It's odd, he thinks, making friends with people simply because they're all trapped in the same place. In some cases, it's the only thing they happen to have in common, too. But friends are friends, no matter the circumstances, and you can never have too many of them, as far as Sonny's concerned.
no subject
"So, how are you adjusting to life here?"
no subject
"Good. Actually, I feel like I should be having a harder time adjusting than I am, you know?" He laughs a little, his breath forming clouds in the air. "I think it's just because there's so many good people here. People that like to look out for each other and stuff. It makes me feel more at home."
Which sounds ridiculous, since he's from New York, arguably the least friendly city in the States. But he's in law enforcement, and they definitely look out for each other there.
no subject
"Yeah. It takes time, believe me, but you'd be surprised what you can learn to accept and adjust to I guess," Sam said allowed, after mulling over his thoughts on the matter. "It does help that we more or less look out for each other -- we're all in the same boat so it's honestly just easier that way, right?" They could have easily gone the other direction -- everyone out for their own gain and comfort -- but that hadn't happened and Sam was grateful for that.
no subject
Sonny included. He didn't even know how to start a fire before he got here.
"Obviously we all want to get home as soon as possible," Sonny says. "But while we're here, it's good that we're here with a lot of supportive, helpful people."