The Aftermath of Block 2845
No Block is truly the same after the walls come crashing down, but as the locus of the revolution, Block 2845 suffers some of the most drastic changes of anywhere in the Threshold. Many leave the block for good, searching for something – someone – they could never find here. Others stay and watch as the Block begins to metamorphose before them.
Several of the Snake Dens remain in operation, although that derogatory name is quickly forgotten about. Zachary continues to run the Elysium, although its patronage skyrockets after the fall of Psychopomp. The same is true for the eateries, although the more deplorable menu items at the Cuisine De Seuil are done away with and never spoken of, save for hushed rumours.
As well as these old haunts, a new pub opens up — the Resurrectionist.
Wild plants begin to claim the Warehouse District, transforming the otherwise drab expanse of steel and grey concrete into an eco-brutalist utopia. The floating remnants of the tower slowly succumb to decay and abandon, breaking into smaller sections that are set adrift across the sky, except for those that remain tethered to the ground by metal wires. Zip-wires are occasionally set up between these floating chunks of debris by the same daredevils that ride hoverbikes to explore what’s left of the airborne wreckage.
Melanie quits her job at the cafeteria and instead spends her time monitoring a research station in the Block that analyses components of the mist from traces in the atmosphere. She often collaborates with scientists from other Blocks to exchange findings. She spends most of her evenings singing as part of a Peggy Lee tribute act.
Upon their return, the Whippoorwill and Stick ’n Stab get taken up by Atom and Harry (now with a third, Bite, in tow) once again. With the hidden entrance discarded, the speakeasy is open to all far more genuinely than before, a comforting spot to drink, dance, or sit by the bar, wrapped up in conversation with an intriguing stranger. Atom can be found, much like before, giving tattoos, or pouring drinks. Much like before, although now with the addition that one of his boyfriends is likely close by, leaning over occasionally to murmur private jokes.
Bale, half remembering, half lost, a far cry from the leader he once was and far better for it, finds a little nook for himself. He makes a home, snug, full of orange light, blankets and bookcases. He likes to listen to people’s stories, ever curious to know. In a small, human way.
Marianne remains in the Block, entranced for a while by the ever growing plants that have claimed the Warehouse district. She smiles as flowers claim her workspace, as they bloom in the machinery. And in the depths of these flowers and wild plants, she builds a cottage, brick by brick. It’s not perfect – but it is home.
April and January stay too. April takes to a life of science and research, employing their skills in drug manufacturing for a perhaps more honourable purpose. January is equally as busy, not being satisfied until they’ve crocheted everyone in the Block a scarf (or two, or three). But in those rare moments when they are both free, they’ll be in the garden where the Tower once stood. They talk and they talk. They could talk forever, telling each other about their lives. The things they remember, the things they don’t. They’re so similar, and yet so different. It is confusing, but they have an eternity to figure it out.